Scare Tactics
by Nic Millner
Summary: Angelina Bennington has always just considered herself an average girl with friends that hover over her and have a little too much drama, but she wouldn't have it any other way, especially after her boyfriend died in that accident. Little does she know that her life is going to change in a drastic way.
1. Chapter 1

Ch. 1

We are all lined up at one end of the court in the Ambeveldt High School gymnasium. The situation feels very much like we are people in the military having our posture and beds checked for neatness. I'm not really sure what that feels like, but I have seen movies and it seems fitting enough. Coach Williams paces back and forth in front of us slowly, studying us like that of a lion in a cage just waiting for the right moment. He would be the drill sergeant that would never stop.

"Alright," he spurts out suddenly making a few kids jump, his booming voice carrying throughout the gym. "Today, I've been instructed to give you guys a workout." He pauses in his pacing and straightens up his muscular body. "To an extent. As much as it would entertain me, I can't keep you guys here all night running suicides." He makes his way to the side of the court, stops, and turns back around to face us. "That reminds me: suicides…"

All of us groan.

"Okay," Coach continues. "You guys know the drill. It's whistle to whistle. You start at the first whistle and don't stop until you hear it again. Down and back, go." He blows the whistle that hangs around his neck.

We react to the sound, running to the free throw line, touching the line, running back, heading to half court, back, and so on, making our way down the court. As I am going back to start my second set, I notice several other kids already halfway on their third. I have to laugh inside. Jocks. They always seem to want to show off and push their limit. Why not pace yourself? We are going to be doing this for almost an hour so why waste energy? They of all people should know that, right?

I finish my second set, touching my fingers to the baseline, and start on my third. My best friend, Lucy, jogs up beside me and we run together. "Hi," she greets.

"Hey," I respond.

We touch the line.

"This sure enough blows, doesn't it?" she breathes.

I glance over at her. Her curly, blond hair pulled back into a ponytail bounces around the back of her head. Her bright, blue eyes are focused on the path she is aimed for. I focus back on my own path. "Yeah, I guess it does, but hey, it could be worse."

"Oh?" she questions in that honeydew tone of hers and we both touch the line.

"Yeah, would you want your stomach to burn like fire when you wake up tomorrow morning from doing an endless supply of crunches?"

She cringes. "Ouch. No, I guess not…"

"I didn't think so."

"Oh, hey, have you heard?"

We touch the line again.

"What?" I ask.

"There's a new kid coming."

As we jog in silence for a minute, I take the time to wager with myself that I probably know what's going on in her head right now. "I wonder what he looks like…" she says almost to herself.

Bingo! I just won a large amount of imaginary money. "I knew it! You hope he's cute so you can get your paws on him, don't you?"

"Well…" she drifts off blushing.

I let a smug smile creep onto my face as again we touch our fingers to the scuffed wooden floor.

"Just because my world revolves around boys and beauty doesn't mean I'm a bad person, Angie," she states.

There's another moment of silence as we run and touch the lines, our heavy breathing and the footfalls of the other students the only sound. Coach Williams watches us intently, arms crossed over his broad chest. I'm sure he's giddy somewhere deep inside.

"Does it?" she asks finally.

"No. It's just that many people don't obsess about those things, but you're not the only one. Everyone's world has to revolve around something I guess."

She smiles her cute, little smile.

As I am at my locker getting my books for my next class, Science, a familiar person makes their way up to me. It's Tom, another one of my closest friends.

"So," he starts, leaning coolly against the set of lockers watching me gather my books. "How's thinking about it working out?"

I sigh internally knowing he means the matter of me going out with him. I shut my locker door and start heading to class with him right at my side. "Tom, I don't think I can do it."

"Well, why not? Here, let me get those for you," he says grabbing my books.

"Thank you."

"Mm-hmm…"

"Tom, I've told you why, over and over…"

"I know, but Angel baby-"

"Look, maybe one day, but not anytime soon, okay?" I find myself straining to keep my irritation from showing. This subject is not one I really want to discuss right now or for quite some time. I just think it's something that's been beaten to a bloody pulp. He keeps asking me and I keep giving him the same answer. It's just not something I can deal with right now even though I'm pretty much being forced to. Once Tom's set on a notion, he never lets it go.

"Fine," he grumbles, but just as quickly as his good mood dims, it brightens again. A new idea has formed in his head. For a second I think I can actually see the light bulb go off above his messy ducktail styled hairdo. I suddenly realize that this is probably one of the reasons why some people say that he reminds them of Kenickie from the movie Grease: his hair. I can see it too sometimes. Tom does resemble the guy somewhat; he's just not as rough around the edges. "Hey, do you want to go grab something for dinner tonight?"

"Hmm, I'll think on it."

"Why do you always have to think on things?" he complains.

"It's me, Tom. If you want me, you're going to have to deal with it."

We stop at the door of my class and he hands me back my books. "Alright," he sighs, obviously frustrated. "But back to you and me-"

I roll my eyes.

"You do know what they say about angels, don't you?" he asks without acknowledging my gesture.

"What?"

"They can't break a person's heart."

"Tom, that's your saying," I say smiling. "Not everyone believes that. Now go to class."

"Okay," he says kissing my cheek and I do my best not to cringe away. "See you later."

I turn and walk into the classroom and am immediately greeted by my little group of friends. "Look who the angels flew in! It's Angel!"

I smile and shake my head at the cheesy introduction as I head over to them. They do it almost every time I walk into Science class. Why? I've been asking myself this for quite a while. I take a seat in a desk that has my friends Jimmy in front of me, Lucy to Jimmy's right, Sean to my left, and Greg behind me. They all turn to face me. "Wow, I'm the center of attention now, aren't I?" I say.

"You and Lucy both," Sean quips, running a hand through his golden, spiked hair.

Jimmy sits there in his desk observing us quietly as he always does. Being talkative just isn't one of his outstanding personality traits.

"Have you seen the new guy yet?" Lucy questions impatiently looking into her favorite powder-blue compact.

"Sorry," I say.

"I'm wondering if he's just not going to show up."

I merely shrug. I'm not as into boys as Lucy is so I don't care one way or another about this new guy, but I do understand her frustration. It's her personality so she has room to snip when it comes to "dire" matters such as these.

"Did Tom ask you again?" Sean interrogates me.

I cast him a knowing look.

"Hey, all I'm saying is I just think he needs to give that dream up."

The sound of Lucy's compact smashing on the linoleum floor makes us jump. We look and find that it is in pieces. All of us shift our gazes to her, but she does not return any of ours. She's staring at a guy we've never seen before. Her eyes follow his lean figure as he silently walks over to her and takes the seat next to hers. She slowly turns to me with a look that is pained with shyness. The strange thing is: Lucy is never shy.

The guy is definitely hot. He looks similar to that of a statue. In other words: he seems perfect. His light skin is flawless and his short-sleeved t-shirt hints at a chiseled body…

Mr. Hannigan, our teacher, clears his throat and instantly has everyone's attention. He's the type of teacher where if he doesn't have your undivided attention, it can turn out to be a very bad day. He gives everyone exactly one warning and that is at the beginning of each school year. After that, that's it, no more. If you break the rules, like I said, it can turn out to be a very bad day. It's been said he assigns five page essays on a topic he chooses and expects it done the next day along with some form of presentation such as a Power Point or poster.

I sit there with the rest of the class and pretend to be caught up in his lecture as he writes on the whiteboard. The class is only a short period out of the entire day so we students decide to take the lesser of two evils and just bear with it as boring as it is. Who wants to stay up all night writing about the unification of gravitation with quantum chromodynamics?

I haven't noticed that I have been daydreaming until my attention is caught by the words: "Mr. Miller? We all know Miss Bennington is a lovely young woman…"

My eyes jerk from Mr. Hannigan to the new kid. Mr. Hannigan had announced him as Duane Miller. He stares at our teacher with dark eyes. "But please," Mr. Hannigan continues. "…pay attention to the lesson."

Duane gives a small nod, his face expressionless.

"This is your first and last warning, Mr. Miller. Be glad you get a warning. You're new so…"

Again, Duane nods and Mr. Hannigan turns back to the board and continues his lecture.

I glance around to try and figure out what has just happened. Sean catches my eye and I look at him for an explanation. He catches onto my confusion and starts scribbling on a piece of paper. He passes it to me. It reads:

_That new kid has been staring at you from the moment class started. He never looked away. Weird if you ask me._

I look back at Sean and he gives me a nod. I peek over at Duane. His steely gaze is locked on me and it makes my skin prickle. I turn back to Sean and he merely shrugs. When I look back in Duane's direction, I find him concentrating on the whiteboard. This is definitely weird.

Something else catches my attention. It's Lucy. She is gawking at me. I know what is going through her mind and I shake my head to try and disprove her thoughts.

She simply flips her blond curls, faces back toward the board, and continues to pretend to listen to the lecture. She crosses her legs and continues to pretend to scribble notes down with her pink feather pen as well. I get the message that this silent discussion is over. I sigh and continue to pretend to pay attention with the rest of the class.

Not nearly soon enough, the bell rings. I need to talk to Lucy. I start to try and get her attention, but just as I look up from gathering my papers together, I see her hurry out the door. Duane is already gone. Grumbling to myself, I gather my books and head out of the room also.

At the end of the day, I finally catch up to Lucy. She's made an effort to avoid me ever since Science. Things get so carried away with her and so easily, too. It's okay, though. It's just another part of who she is, a little princess drama queen, but the good thing is that she's usually open to explanations so at least I have a good chance of fixing things. "We need to talk," I state.

"I'll say," she shoots back.

"I wasn't flirting with him!"

"Sure, sure," she mutters and keeps walking.

"I swear, Lu-Lu! Angel's oath," I say holding up my right hand.

She stops and stands there for a minute or two, turning this over in her mind. I can understand her reason for being defensive so I can't help but forgive her. Finally, she complies. "Fine."

I let my hand drop. "Sean said that he'd been staring at me since class had started."

"Everyone couldn't help but notice," she spits, anger still venom on her tongue.

"Well _I_ didn't notice! I don't pay attention to things like that. I just don't care…unless it's a really creepy situation. Then, I may need to care."

We've stopped in the lobby and are waiting for the guys. Lucy is slowly calming down. It just takes a few of minutes. When I think she is finally close to being calm, I decide to ask, "You want him bad, don't you?"

She jerks her head up to look me. "Did you not see how beautiful he was?!"

"I'm not as set on that as you are."

She gives me an understanding look and we start heading to the main doors when we spot the guys walking towards us. When they do catch up to us, Sean blurts, "Angel's got a crush!"

"What?" Tom all but shouts.

"I do not!" I argue glaring at Sean.

Sean and his mouth. What a destructive combination. You'd figure we'd be used to it by now since we've all been together since kindergarten, but he is always coming up with new ways to surprise us fluttering about the way he does and causing chaos. I do believe stating the obvious and saying things that no one else will is his favorite pastime; that and annoying Lucy to death. I remember in second grade he told our teacher that everyone thought she wore a wig but he didn't think so and thought that if it really was her normal hair that it was pretty wicked. If it were any other kid, they would have been scolded big time, but Sean has learned that he can charm his way out of just about anything with his goofy smile and persuasive blue eyes.

"Sorry," Sean says. "It's more like a crusher or is it a crushee…which one?"

"I think it might be crushee," Greg states. "We'll ask Mr. Johnson tomorrow in English."

Out of the corner of my eye I can see Jimmy trying to fight a smile. He always gets a kick out of the messes Sean stirs up.

Tom is at my side now and is determined to get to the bottom of this even though there's nothing to get to the bottom of. So, he's pretty much acting ridiculous for nothing, just like usual. "What's this all about, Angel baby?"

"Shh, guys," I command as we near the doors.

There, leaning against the wall, is Duane. We are silent and stare at him as we pass him on our way out. He does the same.

Once outside, Tom starts into it. "Was that him? I should go back and knock some sense into him for looking at you that way!"

"Oh, no you don't," I say. "Overprotective much? Tom, we aren't even together, remember?"

He mumbles under his breath.

There is a moment of silence as we stand there on the sidewalk, but leave it to Sean to fix that problem. "You know, it was kind of like he was undressing you with his eyes, Angel."

We all groan and head to Tom's car.

"What?" Sean questions innocently lagging behind us.

As we reach Tom's red '63 Ford convertible, Tom suddenly blurts out, "Why not?!"

I see the rest of the gang roll their eyes and hear groans muttered. I close my own eyes and try to respond steadily. "Tom, you know why."

"Look, Angie-"

"Because of Doyle!" I exclaim.

There is a temporary standstill while the others process what has just happened. For a moment it's as if everyone is afraid to breathe even. Tom runs a hand through his dirty blonde hair and exhales like he's been punched in the gut.

Ever since a drunk driver killed my boyfriend, Doyle, while he and some friends were heading home from a football game, things have been pretty tense. Everyone's kind of afraid to talk about him or even bring up his name because they're afraid of how it will affect me. I haven't really gotten over it. I haven't really worked to. I don't visit his grave mostly because of the nightmares I've had and I'm simply just afraid; afraid that unbearable pain will come back if I do. I think I've managed pretty well, though; just doing what I'm doing a.k.a. hiding.

Sean rushes over to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay? Are you okay? Man, I can't believe- He shouldn't have- Are you okay?"

I nod. "I'm fine."

He steps back. The gang is staring at Tom. His brown eyes look up from the asphalt and at me. "Angie, I'm sorry. I- I wasn't thinking-"

"Just take me home, please," I request quietly just wanting to be out of here.

He responds by giving me a silent nod and climbing into the driver's seat of his car.

"Bye, Angie," Lucy says.

"See you, Angel," Sean, Greg, and Jimmy say in unison.

"Bye, guys," I reply getting into the passenger seat of Tom's car.

The drive home is quiet. It's awkward. There's tension in the air and it's almost suffocating it's so thick. It's nearly paralyzing, but finally, _finally_, we arrive at my house. Tom pulls up into my driveway and turns the car off. We sit there for a minute, a very awkward minute that feels more like a horrible, tedious hour. Eventually, he turns his body to face me, but stares at the radio dials. "Angel, I am so sorry about earlier. I never intended to bring that up. It was stupid of me and I should've thought about your feelings first. I'm sorry."

I remain silent, picking at a hole in the knee of my jeans. I just really want to go and hide out in my room and be just alone.

"So, uh, I guess you don't want to go on that date later."

"I don't think so. Sorry."

"No, I understand," he sighs. "Well, I guess I'll see you later."

"Yeah," I respond reaching for the door handle. I get out and walk to the front porch of my bungalow after closing the car door. I pause as I unlock the front door, looking back and watching as Tom pulls out of the driveway and drives off.

I open the door and am met by Max, my two-and-a-half year old Golden Retriever. "Hey, boy," I say as he greets me by licking my hands and wagging his tail. I step inside the house, closing and locking the door behind me. Max follows me through the dining room, to the den, and into the kitchen.

I walk to the back door in the laundry room set just off to the side of the kitchen, unlock the door, and let Max out. While he does his business, I wash my hands in the kitchen sink, fetch a bag of Fritos from the pantry and a can of Mountain Dew from the fridge. I go to Max's cabinet next to the stove, grab a rawhide bone, and let Max back inside. "Good boy," I praise and hand him his bone, which he takes eagerly.

I close the back door and lock it back. Since both my parents work, the rules are as follows: let Max out when I get home and keep the doors locked.

I tread upstairs with my snacks and Max follows me with his bone in his mouth. We walk down the hall passing the guest room and the bathroom, and enter my room on the right. I step across my hardwood floor, take a seat on the small shag rug that lay at the side of my four-poster bed and rest my back against the bed frame. Max lays down beside me and chews on his bone. I sit the chips on one side of me and pop open my Mountain Dew. I take a long sip before I sit it beside the chips.

I sigh. I don't have any homework tonight. I don't have anything I have to do at all. Maybe I should release some of this pent up tension and sadness that's been nagging at me and simply have a good cry, but then my feelings would be running rampant. That's just not something I usually let happen. I haven't cried since the day that I had gotten the news of Doyle's death. That was a little bit over a year ago…

I look up in front of me at my dresser mirror where I have placed several pictures of the gang. There is a picture of Lucy looking into her powder-blue compact, not paying any attention, and trying to avoid the tension that floats around in our little group.

There's a picture of Tom trying to act cool like always.

There's a picture of Sean and I sticking our tongues out at the camera. Sean has his eyes crossed and it makes me smile a little bit. He's such a character…

There's a picture of Jimmy and Tom wearing black sunglasses with punk looks on their faces. It's probably the most outgoing thing Jimmy's ever done and it did take some convincing to get him to do it because he's just so shy. In the end, it really did make a good picture.

There's a picture of Tom kissing my cheek. Why I have it, I don't know.

There's a picture of the whole gang minus one. Tom and I are in the middle. He has his arm around me. Lucy is behind Tom and me poking her head in between ours. Sean and Greg are on either side of her and Jimmy is sitting back on his heels down in front of Tom and me.

Then there are the pictures of Doyle and me…

There is one where Doyle has his arm around me and is smiling his charming smile at the camera. I have my head leaned against his shoulder and am smiling at the camera, too, completely content, no worries at all.

Then, there is the picture that is my favorite, but at the same time it tears me up inside: the picture of Doyle and me sharing a beautiful kiss. He has his arms wrapped firmly, lovingly around me. I cling to him, hoping it will never end.

I find a lump has begun to form in my throat. I find myself wishing that I could reverse time back to _that_ time. I wish that I could feel his arms around me once more, making me feel safe and secure, keeping any pain away. All I felt with him was cared for and truly happy. I haven't felt that since the day he died and it's nearly been torture. I just wish I could take in the comforting scent of him again. I wish that I could feel his sweet, soft lips pressed against mine just _one more time…_

I feel a hot tear roll down my cheek, leaving a cool, wet track of where it has been and soon, I am bawling my eyes out not only from the pain of losing the one I ever truly loved, but from the frustration caused by the tension in the gang. Ever since Doyle passed away, things have simply gone downhill for us.

I remember back to near the end of that same school year that Doyle passed away. Tom and Lucy were together, but they started getting into arguments more and more often. Finally, they had enough of it and broke up. It was hard enough for Lucy, being in love with Tom and having it end. She didn't need her ex falling for her best friend added on. Now, there's constant tension among us. There's fear of saying the wrong thing. There's fear of doing the wrong thing. While it's an obvious problem, no one in the group really knows just how serious it is and no one dares to acknowledge it. Just trying to keep things from falling apart is so exhausting.

Pain and frustration rack my body as I sob, making me tremble. It's been so long since I've just let myself feel any unblocked emotion. I feel as if this is the end. It feels as if the blackness that seems to surround me will just keep coming for me and never recede. It feels as if there is nothing for me. I feel hopeless when I wonder if there will be any happiness here; if things will ever be fixed and like they used to be.

I end up crying for quite some time before I begin to calm down. I actually find myself really relieved that I have released some of the pent up emotion I've held onto for so long. Max has his head in my lap. I know he wonders why I've been crying and I know he doesn't like to see me sad. I stroke his head. "I'm fine now," I whisper and he just looks up at me with those adorable puppy eyes of his.

A familiar tune begins playing and Max's ears perk. I realize it is my cell phone and reach down in my pocket to fish it out. I flip it open and put it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Oh my goodness, Angie!" the voice on the other line squeals making me pull the phone away from my ear a bit. "Have you been crying?"

It is Lucy.

"No," I lie.

"Angie, don't lie to me."

Do I really sound that nasally? Maybe she just knows me that well. I'm not surprised. After all, we have spent nearly our whole lives together. "Sorry."

"Was it about…Doyle?"

"Yeah."

"Oh hon, I'm sorry."

I remain quiet. It just feels like it takes so much effort to talk right now, like it's physically exhausting.

"You know, I haven't seen you cry since the day-"

"I haven't," I interrupt quickly.

"Angie, it's not good to just block it off. Crying every once in while is healthy. It won't kill you or make you melt."

I'm silent once more. I don't really know what to say and don't have anything to say. I just want to be left alone for a while.

"Do I need to come over there?"

"No, you really don't have to."

"I think I should." she insists.

I really don't feel like arguing. The strain it seems to present feels like it might actually kill me, so I give up. "Okay, fine, whatever you think is best."

"Awesome! I'll be over in a jiff!"

I sigh and flip the phone closed.

I lean my head back against the side of my bed. I know what Lucy's plan is. She doesn't want me to mope. I won't! Just give me a minute and I'll be fine! I groan. Knowing Lucy, she'll bring a cake, party favors, and streamers. Maybe she'll even bring a small car with nine clowns in it. I shudder. No, she won't do the clowns. She knows I hate clowns.

I tilt my head and look at the chips and soda I have barely touched. I start to get up. Max lifts his head from my lap and stands. I look in my mirror to see how bad the damage is. I get a tissue and blot my eyes dry and work to remove the stray mascara. My normally light green eyes have been taken over by redness and are puffy. Great. I jump up and down a few times to try and lighten myself up. I run a brush through my dark hair and let it drop down around my shoulders. Once I think I look decent enough, I grab the chips and soda. Max grabs his bone and follows me downstairs.

The doorbell rings. Max barks, dropping his bone, and goes to the door wagging his tail fiercely.

I set the chips and soda down on the coffee table in the den and walk to the front door where Max is. I look through the peephole and groan as I see Lucy with the whole gang. I guess I should have expected it. I unlock the door and open it letting them all file in and get doggy kisses from Max. Tom remains on the porch, hesitant. "Are you coming in or what?" I ask.

He silently steps inside obviously still disturbed from earlier. After I close the door and lock it back, I make my way into the den. Sean and Greg have taken a seat on the couch as well as helped themselves to my chips. Sean even takes it upon himself to take my soda. "Make yourselves at home," I say still feeling a little touchy.

Lucy sits in between Sean and Greg. "Thank you, Angie," she replies.

"Uh, Lucy," Sean says as he slowly pulls the soda can away from his lips.

She looks at him.

"That was sarcasm," Greg puts in for Sean.

She looks at Greg and then at me. "Oh, sorry, Angie."

"It's not a problem," I state guardedly. I take a seat on the large Colette rug placed on the hardwood floor and Tom and Jimmy join me. Max wiggles between Tom and me and lies down. Tom runs a hand over his fur. "Listen," he begins. "I'm sorry. Lucy told me… Man, if I wasn't such a jerk-"

"You're not a jerk," I intervene. "I'm fine now. I feel better now that I've let it out. It's no big deal."

He looks at me skeptically trying to make sure I'm telling the truth. It kind of makes me think he actually wants me to scold him, but that'd just make him feel better about himself.

"I promise," I say.

There is silence and stillness in the room with the exception of the grandfather clock and Jimmy twiddling his thumbs. "But I shouldn't have brought it up!" Tom suddenly exclaims.

"Tom, are you going to worry about this your whole life?" I ask getting annoyed. I'd really like nothing better than to just drop the subject already.

He sighs realizing he should just let it go. "No."

"Okay, then start not worrying about it now."

He just looks at me with those sincere brown eyes begging me to forgive him.

"She's right, you know," Jimmy chimes in.

Tom turns his head to look at him. "Huh?"

Jimmy looks back at him shyly. "I'm saying Angie has a point. Two years from now, what you said won't matter at all. So, why worry about it? I mean sure, you said something stupid, but it doesn't matter anymore. And plus, you'll always say something stupid in the future so don't worry about it."

Tom is silent and a puzzled look comes across his face as he tries to decide on whether he should be offended or thankful for the advice. I cast a smile Jimmy's way and give him a wink. He grins back at me.

"So, what are we going to do?" Sean asks getting bored.

"What do you mean?" Lucy asks back while looking into a new pale pink compact feeling the tension already.

"You know," Greg says deciding to take over for Sean. "What are we going to do to entertain ourselves?"

Lucy shuts her compact. "Excuse me? What do you mean 'what are we going to do to entertain ourselves?' We are over here to help Angie."

"But Angie's already been helped."

"Oh…"

I feel Tom carefully place his hand on mine. I look at him and smile even though inside I want to pull away. He smiles back sweetly. It makes my stomach turn into knots.

It is quiet for a long moment, so long that it almost starts to turn awkward.

"Hey, what if we went down to the old playground?" Tom suggests.

There are murmurs of agreement and Jimmy simply nods.

"Let's go!" Sean cheers jumping up off the couch.

12


	2. Chapter 2

Ch. 2

The old playground is deserted and has been for some time. It is full of leaves and most of the equipment is almost completely rusted. In the past, all the kids in the neighborhood used to hang out here. That was until the town built a new playground in a supposedly nicer area of the town. Quite frankly, I think they just wanted to spend money. There is nothing wrong with this part of town. It's actually a very nice and charming small development of suburbs. It's quiet and not too big, and it's close enough to the city that Lucy doesn't die from being away from a major shopping area.

Once we arrive, Sean and Greg immediately run to the old carousel. They jump on it and it creaks under their weight. They begin running and jumping on the spinning platform of rusted metal.

Tom and I make our way over to the swing set. I sit myself in one swing while Tom sits in the one next to me. Jimmy and Lucy take the next pair. A slight breeze makes the autumn air chilly and I shiver. "Hey, you want my jacket?" Tom offers.

I shift my eyes look at him. "Sure."

He slips off his letterman jacket and hands it to me. I take it and pull it around my shoulders. It's warm from his body heat and it feels good, cozy even. I push off the ground a little in my swing. The chains creak in protest. I sigh remembering the better days of the past, back when things weren't so complicated.

It is not until a moment later, I notice that Tom has been staring at me. "What?"

"You're just so beautiful, you know that?" he answers.

I give him a little smile even though deep inside I want to get sick. It's not that I don't like Tom, he's a very good-looking and sweet guy, but it's just when he always shows affection toward me whenever Lucy is around, it just breaks my heart. He keeps saying and doing things like this, pushing, thinking it'll help me hurry up and make a decision about him, but in reality I think it does more harm than good. Pressuring me isn't going to help anything. "Thank you," I manage.

He stands up out of his swing, steps in front of me, and offers me his hand. I place one of my own in his and he easily pulls me out of my swing and onto my feet. I don't have time to react before he wraps his arms around me and kisses my lips so tenderly, so lovingly… I feel absolutely disgusted with myself that I can't return these feelings. "I love you, Angel," he says softly.

I almost miss hearing Lucy's little snort of disgust and disapproval. I shake my head and begin walking to the other side of the playground, away from the swings. Tom follows me and I find myself resenting it. "Don't let her bother you," he says.

"She doesn't bother me," I correct feeling my agitation building. Him making it seem as if I don't know my best friend when in fact, I know her a whole lot more than he ever will, just really grates on me.

"Then why are we-"

I turn back to face him, almost running into him. "Because I think about her feelings," I say quietly trying to keep my anger from boiling over. That is the last thing we need.

"What are you talking about?"

I gawk at him.

He hesitates. He knows this is something he should know.

"Tom!"

"I'm sorry, okay?"

I let out a long breath of frustration.

"I thought she would've gotten over it by now," Tom explains looking back at Lucy. "I mean I did." He turns his gaze back to me with a grin.

I shake my head.

"What?"

"You don't give any thought to the consequences of your actions until after something major happens, Tom. _Then_ you say 'I'm sorry'."

He sighs looking at the ground. He knows I'm right. What happened earlier today when he was bugging me about going out with him and it brought Doyle into the mix is a perfect example. He's known Doyle is one of the reasons I won't go out with him but he was too caught up in his own personal agenda that he didn't give any thought to that. He just doesn't think, and sometimes I can forgive him for it because it's kind of who he is, unconscious of those around him. Other times such as this, it's very hard to overlook his flaw. He means well, I just wish he would use his brain more.

"Listen, it just didn't work out with us, Angel. Yes, I will admit that it was good while it lasted, but things just began falling apart, you know? They became too complicated and it got to where we fought all the time over every little thing. I just wanted out."

"She still cares a lot for you," I say.

"I still care a lot for her, too, just not in that way anymore."

I nod quietly trying to understand why. He and Lucy were a pretty hot couple and other than the fighting, I'm not sure how or why he ever let her go. Lucy's beautiful. She's got the small, pixie-like face with long lashes over her stunning blue eyes, an adorable little nose that Tom always loved, alluring lips, the gorgeous long, curly blonde hair that I've always been a little jealous of, a great figure, and all the confidence to go with this entire package. A lot of people get the wrong impression about her because she's always worrying about superficial things like how she looks. They think she's a snob, a brat, a bimbo, among a few other unmentionable things. She can be prissy and she's not the most observant person, but it's not as bad as people make it out to be. They just don't know her and some girls see her as competition and they don't like that. She's a great friend though. We can tell each other everything and trust each other fully. She probably would've talked to me more about the breakup if Tom hadn't professed his love to me just days after it happened.

"So that's the other reason you won't go out with me: Lucy and, well, you know."

"Lucy is still in love with you and I don't want to give her more pain than she already has. I can't do that to my best friend."

We stand there in silence for a moment. Then, Tom turns his soft gaze to me. "I just fell for you," he says quietly. "Lucy and I broke up and one day you just happened to catch my eye. It was like my world opened up. Look, I love you, Angel, and I'm not going to give up on trying to make this work. I get that you need time, but-"

I sigh. "No, stop. Please, just stop. Tom, she cried, bawled her eyes out when she found out that you liked me and knew that there was a possibility we could get together. It just really complicates things and makes them awkward. It's hard for us all. Greg and Sean don't care for the drama. They prefer we get over this whole thing."

Another moment of silence makes itself present and I watch as another breeze makes a few leaves tumble across the playground.

"Well, is it so wrong to be with someone you like?" he ejects suddenly. "I wish I'd never been involved with Lucy," he says kicking at the gravel.

"You don't mean that-"

"Yes, I do mean it! If we'd never been together, then things wouldn't be this way."

"It wouldn't change anything, Tom!"

"And you know that for certain?"

I stay quiet not wanting to start getting into hypothetical situations -anything can happen there and I know some unforgivable things would be said- and hoping the high emotions will have a bit of time to recede. I soon get my answer. "I mean I just hate having to feel bad for the choice I made. Shouldn't she be happy that I'm happy or want to be anyway?"

"Tom, it's the situation-"

"Tom, it's the situation," he mocks. "Man, just forget it. If you don't want to be with me, then fine, don't be with me."

He turns and walks away back to his car. I sigh yet again. There's no way he's going to make me feel guilty about this. His selfish wants are getting in the way of his judgment. I just wish he would learn that it's not all about him. He says he understands what I'm going through, but his actions speak otherwise. I watch as Tom gets into his car. I know this is the end of our little field trip. "Okay, guys," I call. "It's time to head out."

"Aw, really?" Sean whines as I make my way past the carousel. I see him glance at Tom in his car. "Is Tom in a bad mood?"

"Let's just go, okay?"

"That would be a 'yes'," Greg confirms jumping off the carousel.

"Wait," Sean protests still spinning slowly. "I want to see how fast this thing will go."

"With its condition," Greg notes. "It'll probably fly off into space with you on it."

"Dude that would be awesome!"

I stop walking and turn back to face the two boys. Jimmy walks up to stand beside me. "Okay," I sigh. "But hurry."

"Greg, spin me," Sean orders.

Greg, Sean's keeper and forever loyal partner in crime, jogs back over and grabs one of the metal handles. He runs with the carousel a few times and then stops, grabs a handle and forces it even faster. Eventually, he has it going pretty fast; fast enough I actually start to think it will fly off into space with Sean on it. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing…

Tom honks the car horn and we realize we should get going. Sean then thinks it will be a good idea to jump off the carousel while it's at its near top speed. When no one objects, he jumps. Like a cat, he lands perfectly on his feet, not wobbling or anything as we walk back to the car. On our way back home, though, is when it hits. "Oh," he groans. "I think I'm gonna puke."

"Not in my car you're not," Tom says sternly looking at him critically in the rear-view mirror.

"And not when you're next to me," Lucy adds. "I don't want your chunks all over my lap."

"I'll try and humor you, Lucy," he says leaning his head back.

I sit up front between Tom and Jimmy and find myself busy staring straight out the window. I shift my gaze to Tom when I feel his hand on my knee, but he is concentrating on the road. I know it's his way of apologizing for earlier. I stare back outside.

We arrive back at my house to discover that my parents are home. Both of their cars are in the garage. The crew follows me inside the house each getting more kisses from Max. A familiar scent tickles my nose as I draw close to the kitchen. It is mouth-watering, tangy, delicious, and it bothers me that I can't place what it is. "Angelina?" my mother calls from the kitchen. "Is that you?"

"Yes," I call back, leading the group into the den. "It's me and then some."

I see my father sitting in his favorite recliner reading the newspaper. "Hello, Angie," he greets.

"Hi, Dad," I reply.

My mother walks into the room with her dark red hair up in a perfect bun and a wooden spoon that is covered with marinara sauce. Now I realize what is cooking, but the word for the dish won't come to mind. That bothers me more. "Oh, so you're _all_ here?" my mother beams. "That's good. So, what have you guys been up to?"

"We went to the old playground," Greg decides to announce as he, Sean, and Lucy take their usual spot on the couch. Jimmy takes his place in a chair in the corner of the room. Tom and I stand.

"You know that's not a safe place to be," Mom scolds softly.

"They're pretty safe when they're in a group the size of theirs," Dad notes.

"Well, I'd just prefer if they didn't hang out around there. Anyway, why don't you all stay for dinner?"

"We wouldn't want to intrude," Tom responds putting an arm around me.

"No, you wouldn't be intruding at all! I love having company over, especially you guys."

"Thank you, Mrs. Bennington."

"Of course," Mom says lightheartedly as she sashays back into the kitchen.

'What are we having for dinner?" I finally ask annoyed that I have yet to think of the word I'm looking for.

"Spaghetti with either meatballs or chicken with your choice of marinara or Alfredo sauce, breadsticks, and salad," she answers from the kitchen.

I smile at the fact we are having my favorite meal. Then, I look at Lucy. She has her compact right up to her face, pretending to fix her eye makeup. "Excuse us," I say slipping away from Tom. "I have a shirt I need to return to Lucy. Lucy, why don't you come and make sure this is the one?"

Lucy looks at me warily and responds in the same tone. "Okay." She slowly gets up from the couch and follows me upstairs and into my room. I close the door behind us, turn around and look at her. "Are you okay?"

As she leans against one of the posts of my bed, she's looks at me in a way that hints she thinks this is the most ridiculous question I could have ever asked. "What are you talking about? I'm fine."

Of course she would deny it. I know as well as everyone in the group the rule that none of us ever talk about, but we just know: we don't talk about the tension, no matter how bad it gets. We deny it's there even though it's completely obvious. It's like trying to read a book at a rock concert. Lucy and I both know we can tell each other anything. We have the bond of best friends, but obviously that isn't as strong as the unspoken rule.

"So, there isn't a shirt I need to get, is there?" she asks though she already knows the answer.

"No," I admit.

"Oh, okay, then I'll just go back down-"

"No! Wait, just wait."

"Angie, what is it?"

I stand there for a moment just looking at her. I just want so badly to explode with all of this stupid stuff we've put on ourselves. I want so badly to just express everything and release the pain and hurt to her because I know she understands. I simply cannot though. "Nothing. Nevermind."

"Okay, good, because you're kind of creeping me out."

"Sorry. Hey, tomorrow's Friday. How about you stay over tomorrow night?" I offer.

"That could be good. I like the sound of that."

"We just need to check it with my mom."

She nods and we make our way back downstairs. Music flows from our entertainment system. I recognize it as Tom's mixed CD of mostly Maroon 5. He's a huge Maroon 5 fan as am I. In fact, the whole gang is. They are all helping set the large oak table in the dining room and are singing along when She Will Be Loved starts playing. I help mom bring the food out and place it on the table. Mom tells us to wait for just a few more minutes and then we can eat.

The gang goes ahead and takes their seats at the table, but Tom decides he wants to dance and pulls me to him. I give him a warning look, but he simply smiles at me. "Come on, loosen up, girl."

I roll my eyes and give in. We quickly fall into the familiar flow of Sunday Morning. Our steps are perfect. Our movements are fluid and crisp. Tom sings softly along as he slides his hands lightly onto my hips and brings me closer to him. Oh, how he can push his limits…

I smoothly turn from his grasp to try and gain some space between us, but he just pulls me right back and he is dancing with my back to him. I want to be frustrated, but I find myself starting to laugh instead. He easily turns me back around to face him as the song ends and stands there looking down at me. "See, you can have fun if you let yourself," he says. "We haven't done this in a while."

"Yeah, I know," I respond as my mind goes down Memory Lane. The gang used to always take turns hosting a dance party on the weekend and it would just be the gang, all of us friends. There would be pizza, soda, candy, cake, music, and lots of dancing. It was always a lot of fun. I lose myself as thoughts of Doyle make their way into my mind. It felt so nice to dance with him, being close together, having no worries…

"Earth to Angel," Tom says interrupting my thoughts.

"Sorry, I just got lost in my head."

He nods at me seeming to understand where exactly my thoughts were. I look past him as Mom gets everyone's drinks. "Tom, what would you like?" she asks pleasantly.

"Just water, please," he answers not taking his eyes off me. Mom doesn't ask me what I want to drink. She knows I am a Mountain Dew addict.

Meanwhile, The Dance Floor Anthem by Good Charlotte has started to play and I find myself quietly singing along. "He was always giving her attention… Looking hard to find the things she mentioned… He was dedicated, but most suckers hate it… That girl was fine, but she didn't appreciate him…"

I slowly look up at Tom with those words echoing in my ears. There seems to be a complete standstill as our gazes lock, but I close my eyes and turn my head slightly as I see him start to lean in for a kiss. He gets the message and backs off. I open my eyes again and am so thankful when Mom announces, "Dinner's ready!"

Dad walks into the room to take his seat. I feel Tom's fingertips slowly slide from my hips. He sighs and goes to take his seat at the table as well. I do the same.

Dinner is good. I ask Mom about Lucy staying over Friday night and she is fine with it, as I knew she would be. All we need now is Lucy's mother's permission. I know that won't be too hard to get.

I have just gotten over the tense situation that had occurred between Tom and me when something else happens. As I am telling my parents about the school day, Tom, who is sitting next to me, places his hand on my knee. The pressure comes flooding back and I hate it, but I do my best not to show my disgust.

Finally, the night ends and the crew leaves. I cannot remember a moment where I've been happier. I blow a sigh of relief that I don't have to worry about Tom anymore. I don't have to worry about hurting Lucy anymore. I just really wish Tom would get over this fixation of his. It's killing me. Max is at my heels as I creep upstairs to my room. I pluck some pajamas from the drawers of my dresser and go into the bathroom down the hallway to take a long, relaxing bubble bath to try and forget all about my worries. I slip on my pajamas, go through the rest of my nightly routine, and pad back to my room. "Night, Mom! Night, Dad!" I call from my doorway.

They give me 'goodnight's and 'I love you's.

I close my door and climb up into my large bed. Max is curled up in his own bed next to mine and is already asleep. I am glad to fall back onto the mass of pillows that surrounds my head. I close my eyes and hope heavy sleep takes me.

The next morning, the alarm clock on my nightstand buzzes waking me from a fitful sleep. Groaning, I reach over and flip the switch to off. I sigh letting my hand drop and stare up at my ceiling. It is Friday. This fact is what gets me out of bed. I shove the sheets back and swing my feet over the edge of the mattress. Max looks up at me from his own bed. "Well, Lucy's coming over tonight."

He wags his tail.

"All I have to do now is get through the day."

Hopping down from my bed, I stumble to my closet. I find a pair of black jeans and a fitted, sequined, lavender shirt. After nearly walking into the doorframe out of my room, I head into the bathroom, change, and wash my face. I shuffle back into my room and brush my hair. I find my pair of black leather knee-high boots, slip them on, along with my favorite heart-shaped locket Doyle gave me for Valentine's Day, and head downstairs with Max behind me.

Once in the kitchen, I grab a pop tart from the pantry, heat it in the microwave for a few seconds, and take a seat on the kitchen counter. I enjoy the warm gooiness as I take a bite of my breakfast. The house is quiet. I know my parents have already left for work. They are usually gone before I wake up.

I hear the front door open. Max barks and runs into the other room to the door. A second later, I watch as a short, heavyset middle-aged woman with tan skin and black hair enters the kitchen. "Hilda!" I exclaim hopping down from the counter and hurrying over to hug her tight. "It's so good to see you again! I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too, Angie," she greets in a pleasant voice hugging me back. "It's good to be back. I missed being here."

"We've missed having you here."

Max enters the room, then. "Hello again, Max," Hilda says. "I bet you would like some food, wouldn't you?"

He wags his tail in response.

I finish my pop tart as I watch her fill Max's bowl with food and easily fall into her usual house-cleaning routine. She's been gone for quite a while on a vacation my parents had provided for her. We knew she was going through a rough time with her ex-husband and so we gave her some time to relax and work through things. I smile to myself happy to have her back. She's like a part of the family. I'm glad that at least one thing seems to be back to normal. "Well, I guess I should be heading off," I say.

"Okay, I'll see you when you get back," she replies.

"Mom and Dad are going to be so happy when they find out you're back!" I squeal grabbing my house key from the hook on the wall and I hear her chuckle as I skip out of the house.

Tom is waiting in his convertible, top down as usual. "Hi," he greets me when I reach him.

"Hello," I counter getting inside and closing the door.

He starts the machine. "Thank goodness it's Friday, huh?"

"Oh, yeah."

He pulls out of the drive and we are well on our way to school.

The day should have gone by smoothly, but it doesn't. As the gang is waiting for me to finish putting my books in my locker at the end of the day, out of the corner of my eye, I see somebody walk past and run into Jimmy, forcefully pushing him into the lockers causing him to crumple to the floor. The guy cranes his head around and smiles wickedly at us. It's Chance and his posse. "Hey!" I call after them.

They stop and turn around to face me. "Yeah?" asks Chance. "You want something?"

I slam my locker door shut, ticked. "Yeah, I want you to say 'sorry' to my friend."

The guys snicker.

"Something funny?" I question.

Chuckling, Chance steps closer to me with an intense look in his eyes. He's sort of a large guy, pretty muscular and tall, but I don't let my guard down. I don't care who it is; nobody messes with Jimmy and gets away with it, especially Chance's group, who think they can. "Yeah, actually," he answers with a smirk. "You seem to forget that we don't give apologies, baby."

His guys snicker again from behind him.

"Well, I'm afraid you've forgotten something, too, Chance."

"What's that?"

"I'm not your 'baby'," I say lightly with a smirk of my own. "I don't belong to you and I can't believe anyone would ever want to."

Anger flashes in his eyes and he starts to step forward, but Tom and the rest of the crew -excluding Jimmy- step beside me. "You're really going to go after a girl?" Tom asks even though he knows very well that Chance has done some damage to several students in the school, regardless of gender. "You're pathetic, Chance. Back off."

He sneers. "One day," he says to me. "Just you wait. You'll see how great it really is over here." He and his crew depart from us.

I sigh as Tom slides his arm around me. Ever since I or anyone else can remember, Chance has wanted me to join his gang. I'm not sure why, but it's some sort of fixation of his. I figure he wants his group to be the biggest in the school because right now our groups pretty evenly matched; just something cheesy like that. I'm a caring person though, and that's opposite from what Chance is. If somehow I ever ended up with him, he would most likely chew me out for being too nice to people or worse. I couldn't stand that.

I walk over to Jimmy, slipping out of Tom's grasp, and help him up. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he replies quietly. "I think so."

"Come on, let's head home," I suggest putting an arm around him.

We make our way down the hall and to the main doors of the school building. As we near the doors, again, we see Duane leaning up against the wall watching us as we exit the building. Tom stares back harshly as we pass him. I nudge him in the side to get him cut it out. He looks at me, but doesn't say anything.

Once outside, Tom claps his hands together. "Alright, so I'm driving Lucy and Angel home."

"Yeah, we're all the way down there," Greg mentions thumbing behind his shoulder at the far end of the parking lot with one hand and shielding his brown eyes from the sun.

"Stupid younger kids…" Sean mutters under his breath, looking down at his Converse shoes, his fists in his pockets. "Always taking the good parking spots."

"We're way opposite from you guys," Tom says. "I guess we'll see you later this evening."

"Yeah," Greg replies.

After we all say our good-byes and give each other hugs, Lucy and I follow Tom to his car. I jump in the passenger seat and Lucy sits behind me. Tom, of course, takes his place behind the wheel and starts the car.

He begins to pull out of the space, but stops quickly as a car pulls up and stops right behind his. Chance sits proudly in the driver's seat and has his arm around Drusilla or Dru as we call her, another member of his group. Meg and Brent, a couple of other members, sit in the back seat. Chance flips Tom the bird and Tom just hands it right back to him.

Chance winks at me and I roll my eyes. He lurches forward in his car squealing out of the parking lot, a huge grin painting his face.

10

10 


	3. Chapter 3

Ch. 3

Tom pulls up into my drive and the three of us exit the vehicle when he turns the engine off. When we step into the house. Max greets us with happy tail wags and of course, doggy kisses, the usual routine. As we make our way into the den we hear," Angel? Is that you?"

Hilda enters the room. "Why, of course it is!" she exclaims. "Oh, and there's Lucy!"

Lucy smiles, steps over to Hilda, and hugs her tight. "Yes, it's me."

"You have gotten to be so pretty! And Tom…"

He smiles as well and also embraces Hilda bending down quite a bit due to his height and her lack thereof. "It's good to see you again, Hilda."

"The same to you!" she responds. "You all have grown up so much it seems like since I left. Hey, isn't there more of you?"

"Yep," Tom answers. "You're thinking of Greg, Sean, and Jimmy."

"Well, where are they? I want to see them!"

"We're going to meet them in a bit for dinner. Maybe they can stop by and you'll get to see them."

Lucy makes her way to towards the couch and lounges there. She flips open her compact as Tom slips an arm around me and tugs me close to him. I nearly let a grimace make an open appearance, but I stop myself just in time, plastering on the same fake smile I usually do and try to pay attention as Tom and Hilda converse.

"That would be lovely. How are they doing?"

"They're great. Sean's still as Sean as ever."

Hilda chuckles softly thinking back. "I remember I would always have to chase him out of the kitchen when ever I was making my chocolate chip cookies. He was always sticking his fingers in my batter. How is Jimmy? Things were kind of hard on him the last time I saw him."

"Well, you know he's always been quiet and after his parents died, he really locked himself away, but he's been living with his uncle now and he seems to be doing a little better. He's still as quiet as ever, but I don't think he seems as tortured."

Poor Jimmy. He's had it pretty rough. I remember when we first adopted him into our group. It was at the beginning of ninth grade, the first day in fact, where the eighth graders' transition from middle school into high school. Everyone throughout that day was pretty lost and confused, but this one kid at lunch stood out to me. I'd never seen him before and he was pretty much sitting by himself. The sight of him sitting there eating his sack lunch alone tugged at my heartstrings. I nudged Doyle and directed his attention to the kid. He looked at the sandy-blonde boy and then back at me where we shared a silent understanding expression. We continued our lunch, but I made sure to keep an eye on the kid.

It was only when someone was walking by him and bumped the kid in the back of the head with their lunch tray that I decided that it was time to intervene. I nudged Doyle again and we gathered up the gang and went over to sit with him. That's when we learned that he was new to Ambeveldt and was starting the ninth grade just like we were. I found myself thinking, "Wow, this is perfect! If we're in the same grade, then that means I can look after him easier."

The way his innocent brown eyes looked at me just made me love him immediately. I decided right then and there that I was going to take it upon myself to take care of him. I knew he wouldn't stand a chance against the school creeps like Chance and his small frame and timid demeanor would make him an easy and obvious target.

The gang came to love him dearly just like I figured they would. It was a little awkward at first trying to include him in conversations and just trying to get to know him better in general, but we soon learned that he was just one of those quiet natured people and nothing was going to change that…with the exception of the death of his parents.

It was sometime in November, just about two months after Doyle's death that they were killed during a robbery. It was horrible. Jimmy was so quiet and skittish already that I didn't think it was possible for him to go any farther than that, but he did. I remember the gang stayed up all night with him at my house. I remember the way he was shaking… He was in such a state of trauma I was genuinely afraid that we weren't ever going to get him back to his normal self, but he's managed. Along with being the target of cruel fun throughout high school, the kid has taken some beatings, but I really think he's doing okay and that's all I can hope for.

Hilda shakes her head. "It's such a shame that good things happen to good people. What with their murder and those drunk driving incidents that have been happening," she says looking at me. "I think something is stirring up here."

Tom looks at his watch. "Oh, wow, we'd better hit the road if we want to meet the boys."

At that, Lucy gets up and heads for the door. "It was nice to see you again," he says to Hilda.

"Oh, and you, too, honey," she replies.

"Lucy and I'll be back later tonight," I notify her.

"Alright, have a good time."

"Thank you. See you later," I say as I follow Lucy and Tom outside.

We climb back into Tom's car and are soon off to our usual Friday restaurant: T.G.I. Fridays. The name just seems to fit, you know?

We see Greg's Jeep in the parking lot and we pull into an empty space beside it. We are pretty lucky this time getting this spot. Usually we have to hunt for a parking space for what seems like forever because it's so crowded, but tonight it's not quite so packed. We spot Greg, Sean, and Jimmy standing around the entrance of the building and we make our way over. "Hey!" Sean exclaims excitedly as we approach. "Look who's here!"

"Are we ready to eat?" Tom asks. "I'm starving."

"You don't even have to ask," Greg says. "You know we're always ready to eat."

It's true. It seems like Greg, Tom, and Sean are always hungry. I'm always amazed by how much food they can put away, but with three guys that are still growing and love to eat, I guess it's not that surprising. I'm sure they could eat a whole pig and still have room for desert.

Tom ushers us inside.

Once we are seated at a booth, we decide to pick four appetizers from the menu and split it among all of us. It's a good idea and I'm glad we do it because it is just enough to all be eaten and stuff each of us. It is perfect. Tom puts his arm around me and sighs. I am leaned against him feeling stuffed and sleepy. "Well, that was good," he says, a toothpick hanging out of the side of his mouth.

"I concur," Sean adds, picking his teeth with a toothpick of his own. He is slumped against Greg who rolls a toothpick between his fingertips. Lucy is again looking into her compact and Jimmy merely sits there, silently eating a small bowl of vanilla ice cream.

"Excuse me," I say sitting up. "I'm going to take a trip to the little girl's room."

Tom scoots out of the booth and lets me out. I make my way to the back of the restaurant and into the women's restroom, sighing as I look through the dim light and into a large, framed mirror. I pretend to touch up my hair and my lip-gloss, wasting time. I stare at my reflection in the mirror wondering why I have even come in here. It's all because I felt the slight presence of tension start to weave its way among us and got scared. This is ridiculous.

I have to hand it to Lucy. It may be almost killing her to be surrounded by the tension, but at least she can stay out there. The only drawback is that her compact may actually start to become part of her hand because she uses it so much as a type of distraction. Me, I have to excuse myself to the restroom or use some other excuse to get away. I guess we all have our ways of dealing.

I take in a deep breath and release it as I tug on the large door handle and exit the restroom. I begin walking down the hallway to get back to my table when I stop dead in my tracks upon seeing Chance walking down the hall towards me. He grins slyly as I catch his eye. I try to simply scurry past without any problems, but he puts a hand against the wall, his arm barring my path. "Why, look who we have here…"

I close my eyes and sigh. That's another thing I've noticed. I've started sighing a lot. I guess I've just done it so much in an attempt to reduce my anxiety, that it's just become a habit now. I shake the thought away as I get ready to face my enemy. I open my eyes and try to get past on the other side of him, but he blocks me again. I look at him with the sternest look I can manage. "Move."

"Make me."

"Chance, quit screwing around. I'm serious. Get out of my way right now."

He just grins at me. "Not so tough without your crew here to back you up, are you?"

"I'll scream."

"Go ahead and try."

I pause for a minute considering my options. I start to take a breath to try and get someone's attention, but suddenly find myself in a chokehold from behind and a mere squeak escapes from my throat. My heart races not expecting to be in this predicament and knowing just how dangerous Chance is. I do my best not to panic, but I'm terrified. I look around wildly trying to find something or someone to help me. Why hasn't anybody come by yet? Bathrooms almost always have people going in and out of them. Maybe Chance has some tiny soft side deep somewhere inside of him that I can try and get to. "Please," I request faintly. "Chance, let me go. Just please?"

"You got yourself into this. You're the one who threatened to scream."

In an instant, he is yanked off of me and shoved hard into the wall. I collapse to my knees coughing and trying to catch my breath, but when I look up, I see Tom has Chance pinned to the wall by pressing his forearm against his throat. "Don't you ever touch her again," he growls. "I swear you'll be sorry."

He removes his arm from Chance's throat and they glare at each other with looks meant to kill. "Now weren't you on a mission?" Tom utters. "I suggest you get back to it."

Chance angrily turns from Tom and heads into the men's restroom, but not before giving me one last glare.

Tom steps over to me and helps me up. "Are you okay?"

I nod rubbing my throat. "I'm fine, just shaken a little."

"I came to check on you. You were kind of gone for a while and I wanted to make sure you were all right. I come and see him-"

"Hey, let's just get back to our table, okay? They're probably wondering things."

He nods. I feel his arm slide around me as we walk back to the table and this time I welcome it graciously.

When we get back to our booth, I start to slide back into my seat, but Tom grabs my arm stopping me. I turn to him with a puzzled look. "We're heading out," he explains releasing me.

"Why?" Sean asks.

Tom looks at him and then back at me. I shift my gaze to Sean. "Because he said so," I answer.

"Have you paid the ticket?" Tom inquires.

"Yeah," Greg replies. "We're all set."

He and I start making our way to the exits and the others fill in behind. I notice he holds me a little tighter than usual and I can understand his reason for it. I really don't mind this time, though. My heart still feels like it's pounding from the earlier encounter. Soon, we are all congregated outside of the restaurant. "I guess we'll see you guys on Monday," he sighs.

"Why on Monday?" Sean interrogates. "What about tomorrow or Sunday?"

"Lucy is staying over at Angel's. I'm sure they want to have some girly time, am I right?" he asks smiling down at me.

I respond by smiling back.

"We need it big time," we hear Lucy mutter under her breath while looking deep into her compact yet again.

"See?" Tom insists putting an arm around Lucy, tugging her to him. "What'd I tell you guys?"

He grins down at Lucy and she hesitates, not sure what to do in this situation. It's something different. They haven't really been close since the breakup. She finally decides upon smiling back up at him.

"Okay, then," Greg says. "We'll see you on Monday."

"Yeah, you will," he says still smiling at Lucy.

Her smile beams brighter as she stares back at him. I slip out of Tom's grasp and he merely turns and puts both hands on Lucy's waist. They stand smiling at each other. All the guys stand staring at the both of them. This is certainly an odd and awkward situation and they are entranced by it. It confounds me also. I have no idea what exactly is happening here, but I know how to control my emotions a little bit better than they do. I walk up to Sean, but he just continues to stare. "Hey!" I exclaim reaching up and patting his cheek.

He shakes his head and looks down at me. "What?"

I smile. "You got a little caught up there."

"Uh, yeah…"

"Give me a hug. I won't see you until Monday and I'll miss you."

He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into him, and rocking me a little. "I'll miss you, too," he breathes into my hair.

He releases me and I step over to Greg. "You keep that boy in line," I say gesturing to Sean.

"Hey!" Sean interjects. "I am in line!"

"Just barely," I retort turning back to Greg.

I hold out my arms and he reaches out and hugs me. "I'll do what I can with Sean," he says. "You know my job's hard."

"I can hear you," Sean mutters.

He lets me go and now it's Jimmy's turn. "If you need anything," I say softly. "You call me, okay?"

He nods, reaches out, and embraces me tightly. He sighs into my hair. "I'll miss you," he utters softly.

"I'll miss you, too".

He slowly releases me and I turn back to Tom and Lucy. I find them still staring at each other. "Hey, guys, you want to tell the crew 'bye'?" I offer.

"We'll see them on Monday," Tom says not taking his eyes off Lucy.

I raise an eyebrow. This is definitely weird and close to heading into dangerous territory. "Well," I sigh. "We'll see you on Monday then."

"Yeah," Greg confirms.

"See you guys," I call over my shoulder as I begin walking to Tom's car.

"Bye," the boys say, departing.

Tom and Lucy still stand there. I roll my eyes. "Will you two come on already?" I plead.

He puts an arm around Lucy and follows me to his car. This time, Lucy sits in shotgun and leans against Tom during the ride home. Since my house is not too far from the heart of town, it isn't too much longer that he pulls up into my driveway and parks. Lucy and I climb out of the vehicle as he turns the car off. He gets out as well as we walk up to the front door. "Thanks for the ride," Lucy says from the porch as I unlock the door.

"Anytime, anytime," he responds, leaning against the driver's side door of his car.

I open the door. "Hey, Lu-Lu? Why don't you head on up? I need to talk to Tom for a moment."

"Sure," she replies. Smiling brightly, she waves to Tom before disappearing inside the house. I pull the door closed behind her and step off the porch, over to Tom and stand in front of him with my hands on my hips giving him a look. "What?" he asks.

Several beats go by, but I just look at him, jaw set, eyes narrowed, hoping he'll get the message.

"Angie, what is it?"

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

I scoff. "Leading Lucy on?"

Another beat goes by before he gets it. He sinks a little realizing his mistake and exhales. "Oh man…"

"She's thinking the wrong way about your attention. I can tell."

"Yeah, I guess I got caught up there for a moment at the restaurant," he says running a hand through his fine hair. "It's just so hard. I don't know how to be just friends; it's either lovers or enemies. I just don't know how to do this."

"Well, for starters, you can stop making googly eyes at her."

"Angel, baby, I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be apologizing to me, but it's okay. I don't think it went too far."

"That would have been torture. We would be starting this thing all over again."

"Yes, and that's why I wanted to talk to you. Just keep the attention in an understandable range, okay? She still really wants you and if you're not careful, your actions could definitely be misread. I mean, maybe you're kind of reverting to your old self where you were a crazy romantic for all that time, but just try and keep things-" I realize then that he is staring at me. "Are you even listening to me?"

He doesn't acknowledge my question. Instead, he pushes off from against his car and towers over me. His eyes have a peculiar look to them as they search mine intently. His low brows are furrowed slightly as if he is concentrating on something. He's got an idea in his head. I can tell. His ideas are hardly ever the smartest things to be thought of. I return his gaze wondering just what his motive is and take a wary step back. His full lips part slightly. "Tom?"

Before I know it, he has me crushed to him. His lips meet mine and press against them firmly, kissing me eagerly. His hands cup my face gently, yet unyieldingly. My eyes are wide with shock as I am completely floored. What is he doing? I look around wildly. He's never kissed me like this before. He's never been this uncontrolled.

I try to pull away from him, get him to stop, but he just slides his hands down to my waist and grasps it tightly as his lips travel along my jaw and find my neck. "Tom! Stop! Right now! This has to stop!"

He pauses a moment only to switch places with me and back me up against the car. One of his hands runs through my hair and cups the back of my head, tugging me to meet his lips once again.

I press my hands against his chest trying to get him to back off, but his arms only engulf me. This is new territory coming from him and I admit it makes my heart race, but it has to stop. It has to stop now.

I remain still, hoping he will get the point. I know he does when his lips slowly part from mine and he looks at me with those chocolaty eyes of his. I know he means no harm, I know he's frustrated and impatient, his eyes are completely filled with the stormy emotions, but I simply cannot do this sort of thing right now. "Work on it," I command quietly and gently push past him.

I step onto the porch and to the front door turning back around to see him getting into his car. I shake my head and enter the house heading straight for the kitchen. I grab a bag of Doritos and two glasses from the cabinet. I pour Mountain Dew into one glass and cranberry juice, orange juice, and Sprite into the other. Somehow, Lucy has come up with this 'potion' and loves it. I've yet to try it and that's okay with me. I tuck the bag of chips under my arm, grab both of the drinks, and make my way up to my room.

My door is closed a crack so I gently push it open with my hip. It slowly swings open into my room revealing Lucy lying on her back in the middle of my bed. Her arms and legs are spread out and she stares at the fan on my ceiling. She sighs as I enter the room. I set the drinks on the nightstand and toss the bag of chips onto the bed. They land right beside her.

Not taking her eyes off the fan, she reaches for the chips, opens the bag, and puts one in her mouth. I sit on the edge of the bed and grab a chip. "Potion," she says holding her hand out.

I lean over and reach for her 'potion'. I hand it to her and she takes a sip. I grab myself another chip and take a sip of my own drink. She sighs.

All this sighing is beginning to irritate me. I suppose it's my fault, though. It does seem to be a little contagious. "Do you want to talk about it?" I ask.

She shakes her head and grabs another chip. It'll only be a matter of time now. I know something is on her mind and she can't keep it pent up forever or for a minute, even. It's just her nature. Suddenly, she sits up making the bed bounce. "Okay," she starts scooting so that her back is against my mass of pillows. "I am so lost!"

"You're lost?"

"Yeah," she confirms grabbing another chip. "I'm lost with Tom. I don't know which way he's leading me. I mean, at first I understood, but now, with the way tonight went, when he looked at me with those eyes… I want him back, Angie, but he wants you. I just don't know what to do about it. I don't know how to compete with you."

Could this actually be a break through? Are we really going to talk about our problems? This could be the start of something great, something so very relieving, but I realize I must contain my joy for the moment. This needs to be a serious discussion. "Lucy, there's no competing. Listen, Tom's sorry he hurt you. That was his last intent. He just-"

She looks at me with hopeful eyes. I know she wants good news, but I can tell she knows there won't be any.

I sigh. "Tom just feels like you're trying to make him feel guilty about his decision, about you guys, about me."

"But I'm not!"

"I never said you were. That's just the way he feels. I know you want attention from him, right?"

She nods slowly.

"Well, tonight, that's what he was trying to do."

"He was trying to give me more attention? Well, that was kind of a weird way of doing it."

"Yeah, I know. He laid it on a little too thick. He didn't mean to lead you on or give you any wrong ideas, but you know the romantic he used to be. It's just hard for him. It's hard for all of us."

"I just don't know if he wants me or doesn't want me."

We both share a knowing expression.

"No…"

I am quiet. I can only imagine how painful it must be to like someone and them not return the feeling, especially when you've been together with them and things ended kind of nasty. I imagine the desire for one more chance would be overwhelming, you know, to try and fix the things that went wrong.

"I guess I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up."

"He still loves you, just not in that way. I'm sorry."

This time, she's the quiet one.

"I just didn't want you to get too hung up on it. I didn't want you to get crushed again, you know?"

"Yeah, I understand. I would've done the same thing for you."

"No you wouldn't have. You would be too busy looking into that compact of yours to notice what was going on in the first place and then, you'd forget to tell me."

"You're probably right."

I smile. She returns the gesture.

"Hey, you know what would make you feel better?"

She sends me a questioning glance while taking another sip of her potion.

"That 70's Show."

"Oh!" she squeals. "Turn it on!"

I reach over to the nightstand for the remote and turn on the TV that is in my room. I flip through the channels until I reach That 70's Show. "I can't miss seeing Steven," she says.

I smile. "I know."


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4

I open my eyes to sunshine coming through my windows. I look over at my nightstand and at my alarm clock. It reads: 9:43 a.m. I turn my head and see Lucy hanging halfway off the bed. She's always been such a weird sleeper, always resting in the oddest positions. Laughing softly to myself, I toss the covers off of me. After gathering up a knee length denim skirt, a black top, my pair of black boots, and my other necessary clothes to wear, I creep out to the bathroom, careful not to wake Lucy, and change. After brushing out my hair, I place my pajamas in the hamper.

I skip downstairs to see Hilda in the kitchen fixing breakfast. I've always loved her food. She has such a talent for cooking. I especially love it when she will sometimes fix a Mexican dish such as quesadillas, as that is her expertise. It's like my taste buds have gone to heaven. "Good morning, Angel," she welcomes me in a cheery tone and hands me a plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast on it.

"Thank you," I say taking the plate and having a seat in my usual spot in the bay window there in the kitchen. "Someone sure sounds happy today."

"Oh, I just woke up in a good mood," she responds tending to the rest of the food.

"Is that so?" I ask taking a bite of eggs.

"Why yes, dearie."

This immediately catches my attention. Hilda might have been gone for a while, but I still remember her habits and this is not one of them. "Okay, you never call me 'dearie', Hilda, now come on. That right there is an immediate red flag."

She turns around to see me looking at her with a 'yeah-I-know-something's-up' look. "Okay, okay, you got me," she admits sitting at the kitchen table. "There's a guy…"

"I knew it!"

A tickled smile comes across her lips.

"Who is he? What's his job? What's he look like?" I rattle off suddenly very excited.

"Now, just hold your horses. I'll tell you if you'll give me the chance."

I am quiet, but I am bouncing underneath the surface of my skin. I didn't dare take another bite of eggs for heaven knows I'd poke myself in the eye with my fork or something. This could be a sign that things are improving for Hilda and it makes me very happy.

"His name is Henry and he works as a banker."

"Oooo."

She gives me a look.

"Sorry," I giggle and decide it's time to stuff with something so that I won't talk. I can never talk with my mouth full and it will give Hilda a chance to get some words out. I take a bite of bacon and listen.

"He's really very striking, a very handsome man. His hair is kind of short and black and it seems to usually be gelled back. His brown eyes just seem so sweet and friendly and he's a little on the tall side. Of course, everyone's tall to me since I'm a short, old woman."

"You are no such thing, Hilda and you know it."

She laughs her warm, sweet laugh, a laugh I've always loved.

"But yeah, I know him. That's Mr. Banks. Ironic, huh? He's a fairly good friend of my dad's, so I know him a little bit. He's really very nice."

There's a moment of silence that passes between us before Hilda's spirited brown eyes lock on mine. "Is he married?"

I grin. "Nope. He's not and has never been married."

"Oh, I just feel so foolish!"

I can see why. Hilda never talks about guys or romance, so this is something different for her. "You're not! It's not foolish to look around and like what you see."

"Come on now," she says and I giggle.

Lucy appears in the doorway in her signature color: powder blue. It is in the form of a Juicy Couture tracksuit and tennis shoes. Her light blond hair is pulled back by a thick, sequined, powder blue headband and a hint of mascara plays upon her lashes. "What's going on?" she asks tilting her head slightly to the side.

"Oh, nothing," I say as Hilda gets up from her seat, fidgeting with the bun her dark hair has been tightly pulled into.

"Come and get your breakfast while it's hot," Hilda says as she prepares a plate for Lucy which consists of sausage links, hash browns, and eggs.

She takes her plate and after thanking Hilda, comes to join me in the bay window. The sun coming through the window warms our backs. This is one of the reasons why I like sitting here. It feels nice and cozy.

Hilda continues to 'work' with her back turned to us. I know she's trying to busy herself in order to avoid this girlie moment she's been hiding. She hardly ever loosely expresses herself and she'd never think about it while company is over, no matter how long she has known them for. Hilda just likes to try and keep things professional, but she's possibly the sweetest person you will ever meet.

"Did you sleep well last night?" I ask Lucy.

She nods while taking a bite of hash browns. "Mmm, Hilda this is excellent."

"Thank you, sweetie," she says over her shoulder. "Oh, Angel, your parents have gone out. They said they had some kind of meeting. So, it will just be you girls for today. I've got to work on cleaning the house, you know, and I think your mother said she wanted you to take Max out for a walk."

"Alright, that shouldn't be a problem."

"Besides, I need to work off this breakfast," Lucy adds. "It's very good, Hilda."

"Thank you, darling."

"So, you and my parents had a nice meeting last night?" I ask. I know my parents have missed Hilda just as much as I have, if not more. They never expressed it, but I could just tell. No surprise, I've lived with them my whole life.

"Oh, yes. We spent quite a while just talking. It was very nice to see them again."

I nod to myself, happy that one thing seems to be getting back to being the same and that's that Hilda is back.

Once both Lucy and I have finished our breakfast, I grab Max's leash and get ready for our walk. Lucy, Max, and I head out the front door where the crisp, autumn air meets us. As I take in a deep breath and slowly release it, a feeling of euphoria sweeps over me. This time of year has always been my favorite. We take a right out of the driveway heading in the direction of town. Lucy now has her hair pulled up into a ponytail and it bounces around the back of her head as we walk. Lip-gloss shimmers on her lips. I smile to myself thinking of how Lucy puts on makeup when she wants to get exercise. It doesn't really make sense, but oh well. That's just her. We come across my neighbor, Mr. Higgins, and his Golden Retriever, Sally, who live just a couple of houses down from mine. "Hello, Angie," he greets.

"Hello," I reply. "Mr. Higgins, you remember my friend Lucy, don't you?"

"Hi," Lucy says sweetly.

"Of course!" he states. "I remember when you girls used to play in the sprinkler in the summertime. You've grown up quite a bit since then."

It has been a while since then. The last time we did that, we were in third grade, I think. I find myself amazed by how much time slips away. It doesn't feel that long ago. I guess you never realize just how fast time flies when you're growing up until you look back on all your memories. "Yep, we miss the good old days," I say. "How is your son?"

Max and Sally say 'hello' to each other by sniffing one another and wagging their tails.

"Oh, he's doing much better. The doctors are saying that they might release him from the hospital on Wednesday. It was a horrible accident, though. I simply do not understand why people don't have the common sense not to drive under the influence."

I know this story all too well. "It's really a shame that it happens."

"And it seems to happen to the best, unfortunately. I'm sorry about Doyle. He was a nice young man. It would be nice if they would have caught whoever that drunkard was and had some justice done."

I simply nod. I don't really want to be talking about this. I am secretly thankful when Mr. Higgins starts to depart from us. It is like the universe heard my thoughts.

"Well, I guess I should get going. It was nice talking to you, Angie. Tell your parents I said 'hello'."

"Nice talking to you, too. I'll be sure to tell them," I say as Max, Lucy and I begin walking away.

We are silent for a moment before Lucy blurts, "Max and Sally look so good together! You know, they kind of remind me of 101 Dalmatians for some reason."

I don't say anything. A glum feeling has made its presence in my mind. I was sure the day was going to be fine, but then Doyle's name had to come up…

"Do you think they'll ever have puppies?"

I shake myself from my thoughts and look at her questioningly. I didn't really catch onto what she was asking, but she continues, mistaking my confused look for a critical one.

"Sorry, I just think it'd be cool. I want a puppy," she says reaching down to stroke Max's head as we walk.

It is then that we both hear a catcall come from somewhere behind us. Lucy straightens herself up with a sudden displeased look on her face. "Alright, what's the big idea-" she starts wheeling around to see who it is, but she freezes when she does.

It's Chance and some of his gang cruising up to us in his black 2000 Mustang convertible. Lucy and I look at each other with uneasy expressions and decide to keep walking. Max holds back and starts to growl softly. I have to give the leash a little tug to get him to come with us. "Hey," Chance calls. "Why don't you two good-looking little things come and ride with us, huh?"

I stop and turn around to face him. Logan lets the car roll until they reach us. "What do you want, Chance?" I ask. I can hear Max begin to growl louder beside me.

He leans against the passenger door and smirks up at me. "Oh, baby, I want you."

I see Logan, Brent, and Scruffy all have on that evil grin that is so common among their group. "Too bad. I'm taken," I say even though I know it is a lie.

"Oh? That hurts," he replies and places a hand over his heart. "I just might have to steal you away then."

I roll my eyes and begin walking once more with Lucy right at my side, all the while praying that Chance wouldn't actually try to implement the idea he just came up with. I've heard rumors in school and with his record, I certainly wouldn't put it past him to do that sort of thing.

I really wish these guys would just leave, but the car begins rolling again. "Aw, baby, don't be that way…"

In a flash of annoyance, I wheel around to look him dead in the eye. I make my way over to the car and place my hands on the passenger's side doorframe never once breaking my glare at him. "Stop calling me 'baby'," I command in the firmest voice I can manage. It is difficult when inside I'm scared. I don't need another encounter like the one that happened at Friday's.

"You can't ask for miracles…baby."

I've had enough. I just want to get out of here. I start to turn away from the car, but Chance grabs my arm and pulls me into the car with him. "Angie!" Lucy cries.

I struggle to tear myself away from him. In all the commotion, I have let go of Max's leash, but just as he is preparing to lunge at the car, Lucy grabs it. Max is barking like crazy.

"I always knew you were a wild one," he laughs as I shove and squirm against him. He only tightens his grip. I am so sick of this, scared, and I just want to get away, back to freedom and safety. I realize I am no match for him and I am just about to give up when an idea comes to mind. "If you don't want your throat ripped out by the dog, let me go now!" I yell.

He pauses, glancing at Max who has his teeth bared, snarling. He looks back at me. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, believe me, I would."

"You're bluffing."

"Wanna bet?"

Lucy, catching onto my plan, lets the leash out a little and Max lurches forward, barking crazily. "Okay! Okay!" Chance shouts holding up his hands.

This is why she is my best friend and I'm very grateful for it. I groan as I lean up and hop out of the car. I feel another tug on my arm, though. I look back at Chance. His eyes are glued on mine. I can tell he's debating on whether to really set me free or not. "Let me go."

"I'll see you around, baby," he mutters releasing my arm.

I grimace as I take my arm back feeling like I need a shower and Logan drives off, making the car's wheels squeal as they try to find traction with the pavement. Max calms down and I stroke his head. "Good boy."

He licks my hand and I smile.

"Wow," Lucy breathes as she stares off into the distance where Chance has disappeared. "He doesn't give up."

I know I'm going to have some bruises pop up later, especially where Chance grabbed my arm. I gently rub at the sore spot. Man, that guy has some grip. "Don't I know it?"

She looks at me, but then her gaze rests past me. I turn around to see what has caught her eye and see Tom pulling up in his car with Greg, Sean, and Jimmy. He parks the car in front of us and turns the engine off.

"Hey," he greets as he walks over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. For once, I don't see Lucy cringe. I guess our encounter with Chance shook her up quite a bit. I can understand. It did me, too. My adrenaline is still pumping. "Was that Chance?"

I give a simple nod as I watch Greg get out of the back seat leaving space for Sean to lounge.

"What was he up to?"

"What he's always up to: terrorizing people and trying to make me join his little posse. He never gives up."

"No, he doesn't," he says putting an arm around my waist. "It's really starting to tick me off."

I look up at him and he returns my gaze. I can tell he is thinking about last night, but not in the way you might expect. I already get the sense that he's frustrated and upset with himself just by the way he looks at me and holds me. He's tense with self-beration. His eyes nearly scream an apology and beg for forgiveness. I cast him an understanding glance.

"So, I thought we wouldn't see you guys until Monday," I say changing the subject.

"Yeah, well, we couldn't wait that long," Sean responds.

I raise an eyebrow at him.

"What he means, Angel," Greg puts in. "…Is that _he _couldn't wait that long."

"Hey!" Sean blurts realizing the truth about him is in the process of being revealed. We all know Sean gets bored and lonely quickly when he's by himself.

I smile as Greg continues. "So, he gathered us up and dragged us with him on this mission to find you guys."

"That's not entirely true," Sean argues quietly pretending to pick at the back of Tom's seat in the car.

There is a moment of silence where only the chirping of the birds can be heard. "So, what are you girls up to?" Tom asks finally.

I glance at Lucy and she returns my gaze for a brief instant before starting to fiddle with her nails. I figure it's best if we don't tell Tom what happened while Chance was here. He'd probably want to go after him or something stupidly macho like that. "Well, Mom wanted for me to take Max out for a walk. That's what we were doing when Chance came up to us."

"Hey," Tom says quietly and squeezes my side. He points across the street and down a ways. "Is that Duane?"

Right away, this catches Sean's attention and he jerks his head up, looking around frantically. "What? Where?"

We all look at where he is pointing and for sure see Duane walking down the opposing sidewalk. "What's he doing here?" Sean questions.

"That's what I'm wondering," Tom says moving his arm from my waist to around my shoulders and tugs me slightly closer.

"Well, he's new here," I say rolling my eyes. I don't understand why everyone is starting to freak out. "Maybe his parents bought a house around here."

Tom looks at me and then back at Duane. "Why don't we go and ask him?"

I look at him and he looks back down at me.

"Uh, let's not," Sean suggests. "That dude gives me the creeps."

"I think he's beautiful," Lucy chimes in.

"You would," Sean murmurs going back to his 'picking' at the red leather seat.

Lucy shoots him an icy glare, but he's too busy to notice. "Why don't you just shut your mouth?" she growls.

He jerks his head back up to look at her. "Touchy, are we?"

"Ignorant, are you?"

He conveys an expression that is thrown back. "Where did that come from?"

"Don't make a comment if you don't have the info to back it up."

"Lady, how long have I known you?"

"Obviously not long enough."

"Uh-huh, I've been around you long enough to know that you're a boy chaser."

Sean's expression becomes smug as Lucy's becomes shocked. "Is it so wrong?!" she gasps.

He merely shrugs.

"You're nothing more than a sad little boy who can't get a girlfriend," she retorts.

His eyebrows furrow. Then he sits back in his seat with a relaxed air about him. "That's what you think."

"It's what I know," she snips.

He looks back at her and leans forward in his seat again. Tom sighs and lets his arm slide from my shoulders. I can tell he is getting agitated that this conflict has gone on as long as it has. Personally, I think it's healthy for these two to duke it out some. Well, that and I find it somewhat entertaining along with Jimmy. It's kind of a guilty pleasure. "You want to know what _I_ know?" Sean asks her.

"Nothing?"

"No. I know that you've got a crush on me."

"Excuse me?" she scoffs.

"Yeah, I know it's hard to resist the natural charm of my being. You couldn't help it. You just got caught up in it."

"Do you really believe that?"

"I _know_ it."

"I'm sorry, but I don't go for guys in Class: Loser."

"Well, you know what?" Sean shouts standing up in the car.

At this point, Tom's had enough. "Would you two knock it off?" he growls.

Lucy crosses her arms over her chest in a huff. "He started it."

Sean slowly sits back down in his seat. "Sorry, boss."

"Yeah, go ahead and suck up, why don't you?"

"Lucy," Tom growls further. "Let it go already."

She stands there, silently fuming. Sean sticks his tongue out at her. She returns the favor. While I do my best to keep a straight face, Jimmy sits there in the passenger's seat silently giggling.

"So, who's going to go talk to the Goth kid?" Tom asks.

No one speaks at first, but leave it to Sean to fix that problem. "He seems to be pretty fascinated with Angel."

Tom looks at me. "That's right. Angel, I'm sorry we have to sacrifice you. I want you to know that I love you and I hope that if he kills you, it's a quick and painless death."

I give him an elbow in his side, and then proceed to look both ways before making my way across the street.

"Tom! How could you?" Sean cries as he watches me walk over to Duane.

"You suggested it," Tom states shrugging.

"It wasn't a suggestion! Now, call her back before it's too late! I don't want her blood on my hands!"

"Relax, man," Tom says leaning against his car. "Angel can handle this."

Sean shrinks down in his seat with an agonized groan.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the street, I jog up beside Duane. "Hi," I greet him in a light, happy tone.

He stops walking and looks me right in the eyes. "Hello."

"I'm Angie. You're Duane, right?"

He nods silently.

"You're in Science class, aren't you?"

"Yeah." He shifts his gaze over at my friends who are staring at us. It makes it pretty awkward. I feel like a test subject in a lab. "Who are they?"

"Oh, those are my friends. You want to meet them?"

He pauses before giving a single nod.

I start making my way back across the street to the crew with him silently following me. As I approach them, I see Sean peer over the edge of the car door and when he sees Duane with me, he sinks back down.

Duane and I walk over to Tom and Lucy. Max starts barking crazily at him and begins to drag Lucy down the sidewalk trying to get to him. "Uh, Tom, help!" she cries, straining against Max.

Tom grabs the leash from Lucy, pulls Max back to him, grabbing his collar. "What's wrong, boy? Huh?" he asks stroking his fur.

"Duane," I say stepping onto the sidewalk. "This is Tom and Lucy."

Tom waves while Lucy blushes and smiles brightly.

"And that's Jimmy, Sean, and Greg," I add pointing them out.

Duane nods to all of them before resting his eyes rest upon Max who is still barking and growling at him. "I'm sorry," I say. "This is Max, my dog. He usually doesn't act this way around strangers. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," Duane speaks softly as he continues to stare at Max, his face expressionless.

"So, do you live around here?" Tom questions.

"There was a house at the end of the street. My parents bought it."

"That's the old Ferdinand place," Greg says. "I heard some pretty messed up stuff happened there."

"What have you heard?" Duane asks, still staring at Max with dark eyes.

"Oh, just crap basically. Like, the owners there were crazy and took little kids on Halloween, cut them up, and had their guts for dinner and their blood as wine. The weird thing, though, is that there are actually bloodstains on the walls."

"You've been in there?" Lucy exclaims.

Greg nods. She shivers.

"So, where are you from, Duane?" I ask trying to find a lighter subject. This meeting could not get anymore awkward.

"New York," he answers.

"I've always wanted to go to New York!" Lucy states.

Just then, Sean sits up, happy to destroy any type of relationship Lucy could ever hope to have with this guy. "You have not! That's an outright lie! Oh, but of course, anything for the boy."

"Would you please?" she shouts.

Yep, things just got more awkward. I'm sure he'll really want to hang out with us now what with the staring, the gruesome Halloween tales, and girly plans getting revealed. "I should get home," Duane states flatly.

"Oh, well, maybe we'll get to talk sometime at school," I say. "I'm sorry for the hectic mess."

"It's alright." He turns from us, resuming his journey down the street.

We watch him for what seems like an incredibly long time. We are quiet as we try to absorb what just happened, but this time it's not Sean who breaks the silence. "Real smooth, guys," Lucy and I say in unison turning on the boys.

"What?" they all-except Jimmy of course-shout back.

Lucy and I look at each other. "Men…" we both say smiling and burst into giggles. The boys all look at one another, lost looks on their faces. This only makes she and I laugh harder.

"Alright," Tom interjects. "You guys cut it out. You're starting to act crazy."

"In case you haven't noticed, Tom," Sean quips. "They _are_ crazy. They're girls."

"Let's just get Max back home and we can go out on the town, okay?" Tom suggests.

Lucy and I both look at Tom. "Shopping?" we once again say in unison.

"Yes," he responds. "If you two will stop saying everything at the same time. It's starting to freak me out."

Lucy and I give each other a look and slowly walk to either side of him. We give him 'the eyes'. "Oh, Tom," we both say. "You're the hunkiest hunk in all of Hunksville."

"Gah!" he exclaims shoving the end of Max's leash at me and heading around to the driver's side of the car.

Lucy and I laugh as we run with Max back to the house.


	5. Chapter 5

Ch. 5

Tom and I pull up into the school parking lot. It is Monday morning, the most dreaded morning of all the week. Neither of us really wants to be there on school grounds. Of course, who does? Since it's our last year though, we figure if we just bear with it, it'll all be over soon enough. However, then there's college to worry about. Wonderful.

Tom and I make our way to the front doors and enter the school building just like any other school day. Immediately, I notice Duane leaning up against the wall as I've seen him usually do when the gang and I are leaving school at the end of each day. This time, however, he pushes off from the wall and files in behind Tom and I. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Tom's calm expression turn to one of annoyance. I on the other hand decide to smile as I look back at Duane. "Good morning."

He nods to me.

I'm glad our odd encounter on Saturday doesn't seem to have freaked him out about us. I usher him up front to walk between Tom and me. He and Tom look at each other with uneasy expressions. I find the situation quite comical. "So, how are you this morning, Duane?" I ask.

He turns his head back to look at me. "Fine. You?"

"I'm good. I think today's going to be a good day."

Tom looks over at me with an expression that sends me bursting into laughter. Duane looks at him again and then back at me, perplexed by my sudden outburst.

Greg, Sean, and Jimmy come running up to us, but Sean stops dead in his tracks upon seeing Duane, nearly falling over himself. "W-what's he doing here?" he asks openly, his eyes filled with sudden fear.

"Relax, Sean," I say. "Duane's part of the crew now."

This stops everyone -excluding Duane and me- in their tracks. Both he and I stop walking as well and turn back to face the rest of the guys. They stare back at us with shocked expressions, with the exception of Jimmy. It makes me happy that he's not so impulsive and just goes with the flow of things. It makes things easier somehow. I actually think the other guys could stand to learn something from him. "What?" I ask.

Tom steps forward and puts an arm around my shoulders. "Uh, excuse us, Duane, Angie and I need to have a little club meeting." With that, he drags me a distance away from him so he won't hear what he is about to lay on me. "Angel, no."

"No what?"

He sighs an exasperated breath. "Don't play stupid. You know what."

"He needs a friend."

"Oh, so it's pity time, huh? And you'll pity him instead of me? Well, maybe I _need_ some pity, ever think about that? Hey, maybe the whole crew needs a little bit of pity. In case you haven't noticed, times have been tough for us. If you're feeling like dishing it, pity the crew and keep him out. You just met the guy for crying out loud and you'd pity him instead of the people you've known literally your whole life?"

I can't believe what I'm hearing. I've done more for our friends than he ever has. I've sacrificed silently for too long. Just because it's not in flashing lights doesn't mean I haven't done anything. "Tom, you're this close to getting slapped. Stop acting like a stupid smart-aleck."

He merely scoffs.

"You're asking for the wrong kind of pity. I'm not going to go out with you. That's stupid. If you're feeling so lonely, go out and buy a dog! Heck, I'll even let you borrow Max for a day. How's that sound?"

He stands there, looking around, pretending not to hear me. He is really starting to grate on my nerves. He can just be so hardheaded sometimes. I'm not sure how I've tolerated it as long as I have. I guess in the past when I didn't have him chasing after me it wasn't so bad. He had other girls and then Lucy. It does seem that now that I'm his main focus, it's gotten worse. He's always hovering over me. I get that it's part of who he is, but at times like now, it just makes me want to hit him, maybe shake some cobwebs loose among those brain cells of his.

Lucy skips up to us then. "Good morning," she says in such a cheery voice that it almost makes Tom and me both want to vomit. It is too early on a Monday to start being cheery. She notes our serious demeanor. "What's going on?"

"Well, Angie here wants to let Goth boy in the crew."

"Tom," I growl. "If you dare call him that one more time-"

He holds up his hands.

Lucy looks over at Duane who is talking to Greg who has Sean hiding behind him. That's all Sean can do. He knows it's not the best time to come over when a meeting holds Tom, Lucy, and me. "What's wrong with him joining the crew, Tom?" she asks.

"Nobody wants him around," he spits out.

She shoots him a glare that nearly sends him stumbling backward. Her normally kind eyes are suddenly ice cold and hard. "You mean _you_ don't want him around. Just because he's a little better looking than you and you're afraid he'll replace you shouldn't ruin the rest of our fun. You don't even know him. So, you can go keep to yourself or you can get it together. I mean, seriously, give the guy a chance."

"You think I'm jealous? Of that guy?"

"I know you are."

He looks at me, trying to find some sort of backup. "Nuh-uh, buddy," I say. "I'm with her on this one. You can't always have everything go your way."

He sighs and looks over at Duane who is now showing Jimmy a small magic trick. Tom looks at Lucy and sees no mercy in her eyes, so he looks at me again. Once he sees that I'm not about to back down from my position either, he gives in. "Fine, but the first mistake he makes-"

Lucy squeals and gives him a tight hug. "I love you," she beams before scampering off to join the rest of the group.

He watches them and I can tell that he is not happy about this decision at all. I reach out, take his hand, and tug on his arm gently. He looks at me and follows me around the next corner so that we can talk a little more privately.

I lean against the wall and he stands there in front of me, looking at the floor. "Tom."

He doesn't look up.

"Tom, just give him a chance. You'll still be in charge. It's all in your character. It's not like we're replacing anyone. Nothing will change. Things will still be the same."

"Yeah, sure," he mumbles.

I push off the wall and cup his face in my hands. "Look at me."

His sweet brown eyes meet mine.

"Tom, I'm here for you. Relax. I know this is hard, but it'll be okay. Do you trust me?"

He nods ever so slightly.

I lightly kiss his cheek and smile at him. After giving him a pat on the shoulder, I make my way back to the rest of the gang, leaving him staring after me.

Just before Science class is beginning to start and students are reluctantly making their way to their desks, Lucy is busy gabbing to Duane about the weekend while Greg and Sean are voicing their opinions to me about letting Duane join our group. Jimmy watches as he always does, soaking up the information on the situation.

"But _why_, Angie?" Sean interrogates.

"Because he needs a friend or two. He looks so lonely."

"Well, that's his problem. He should be the one to deal with it, not us."

"Sean, you're almost getting to be as bad as Tom."

"Is that a good thing?"

I give him a look. He asked it in a joking manner, but I do detect a serious question lying underneath. We don't need two Toms. Someone would end up dead, I'm sure of it.

"Well, hey, you and Lucy both seem like your PMSing. I think you should take the week off school and-"

"Are you sure you want to finish that sentence?"

"See? That's exactly what I'm talking-"

I shoot him a glare.

"Yeah, I'll shut up now."

I smile.

"I have to say that he's actually not that bad," Greg pipes in. Once Sean gives him a look of betrayal, he adds, "I mean, you have to get to know him. I talked to him. He seems friendly enough."

"Traitor," Sean mumbles.

This continuous discussion on the topic is getting old and tiring, especially when the guys are being so immature about it. To me, it's getting to the point of being ridiculous. "You guys need to get a grip, seriously," I say.

Both of them are quiet sensing my agitation.

Suddenly, the PA system comes on and Sissy, the female President of student council, starts to speak.

"_Attention all students: don't forget about this Friday! It's the Halloween Ball! Remember, this is not just any Halloween dance. There will be no scary costumes or props or such. Dress up and bring your man with you, ladies! Come out and have a good time. Don't forget, it's this Friday and it starts at 6:30 and ends at 11. We hope to see all you Timberwolves there!"_

The intercom clicks off.

Lucy pokes her head between Jimmy and me. "Oh my gosh, I cannot wait until Friday. I've got the perfect dress picked out! Oh, it's so pretty. And I've got this new makeup set that has everything! I just can't wait to use it!"

I try to stifle my giggles with Jimmy as we watch Sean mock Lucy, pretending to flip his invisible long hair and act prissy. She glares at him, but he just smiles angelically back at her. "Mirrors don't lie, honey."

"You're fixing to be a broken mirror in a second if you don't shut that mouth of yours."

"I can't help it that the truth is hard."

"Obviously you can't control your mouth either."

He gives her a sly grin, but Lucy just rolls her eyes and goes back to chatting with Duane. He sits there stoically, listening quietly as she yammers on. Lucy and Sean are quite a pair. How they haven't killed each other yet, I have no idea.

As Lucy and I are walking to the school lobby when the last bell of the day has rung, I am suddenly jerked back. I yelp as I feel my sense of balance slip away and I start to fall backwards. I wait for myself to hit the floor, but I feel a pair of strong hands catch me and stand me back up. I look back and see Tom. "You idiot! What are you trying to do? Bust my head open?"

"Man, sorry, Angel. I never knew you were so scared of falling, but shouldn't you know that I'd never let you fall without a hand there to catch you?"

I give him an odd look. "What do you want?"

He looks at Lucy who is standing watching us with a weird expression. He looks back at me and deep into my eyes. "I need to talk to you."

Lucy, getting the hint, decides to walk away and wait for the rest of the guys, her hair bouncing behind her head like usual.

Tom sighs and leans against the wall. "Angie, I think we might have a problem."

Time ticks by as I stand there looking at him, waiting for him to give me more information. Finally, he catches onto my expectant stare. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Reaching up with a hand, he rubs his face and groans. Worry starts to make its way into my thoughts. Why does he look so agonized? Surely what he's going to tell me isn't that bad. "Angie, I think I'm falling in love with Lucy again."

I stand corrected. I think I feel myself go pale. This is not what I want to hear. This is bad. This is very bad. "Tom, are you sure?"

He nods slowly. "I mean, I think so. I want her back. I miss her, what we had, and I just want it back."

"You do realize that if you break up with her again, it is not going to go down as easy as the first time, and remember, that was pretty hard."

"I know the consequences," he says groggily, turning his head slowly to look at me. "I've been thinking this over for a while now. I just can't keep waiting for you."

"When you say that you've thought this over for a while now, you mean you've thought this over throughout this whole school day, don't you?"

He stares at me.

"I know how your mind works, Tom. You wake up each day and decide that you're going to try some new kind of stupid."

"Angie-"

"No," I sigh. "Okay, if this is what you want, go for it, but let me tell you something. Don't you dare come running to me when you break up with her again and we have all this déjà-vu crap, do you hear me? It's been so hard getting things back into some kind of order. If you mess it up again-"

I stop. For once, Tom looks aged, tired, even worn, but I'm so upset that I don't really care. I turn from him and walk over towards the crew, leaving him standing there. Lucy looks behind me to see where he is. "What was that about?"

I look at her. "I'm sure you'll find out soon enough."

We both turn to see Tom walking over to us. I make my way over to the main doors and out of the school building with the group staring after me. "Is there something we should know?" Sean questions.

Tom steps beside Lucy. "Not yet."

I walk down the sidewalk deciding that I will travel home on foot today. I don't want to see Tom. I don't want to see any of the crew really. I just need some space. I'm not sure I can take it anymore. I can't stand worrying about Lucy. I can't stand worrying about Tom. I can't stand worrying about any of them. I know it isn't my responsibility and I shouldn't take it upon myself to handle all of this, but who else will? If things blow up…

I throw the thought from my mind. I don't want to think about it. Not now. I won't pressure myself with something that possibly won't even happen. I have to admit, the first time was hard enough and I guess it's made me paranoid about what the future holds. I really don't want the crew to split up and having another break up from Lucy and Tom seems like it will be just enough to do that. It's more likely to happen this time because I really don't think Tom knows what he wants. I think he just wants _somebody._

I hear a car horn honk somewhere behind me and crane my neck to see who it is. Go figure it has to be the person I least want to see: Tom. He drives slowly behind me, following me. I sigh and return back to walking. Of all the times he has to appear… I guess he has a death wish or something.

"Angel?"

I don't respond.

"Come on, baby. Listen, I'm not going to apologize for my decision. It's mine. I have the right to make my own decisions, don't I?"

I still don't answer. I know I will snap if I do.

"Angel, please, just get in the car and let me drive you home. It's the least you could do."

I scoff quietly to myself. The least _I_ could do? I almost laugh out loud. I keep walking picturing Tom's face on the side of a punching bag.

"Angel, if you don't get in this car-"

This stirs up a reaction. I wheel around and shoot him the meanest look I can manage. He stops the car and just sits there looking at me. "So what if I don't?" I ask. "What are you going to do? Nothing. You're not going to do a thing, Tom, so don't even pretend like you can make me do what you want."

"Angie, I don't want Chance coming around and taking advantage of you like this. There's no telling what he'd do."

"Well, it'd be a nice reprieve from what I'm dealing with now," I spit.

"Angel-"

"No, just shut up, Tom. I don't want to talk to you. I really don't want to talk to anybody right now, because as you can plainly see, I'm a little ticked."

"Well, yeah, I can see that. Heck, anybody can feel your wrath for miles. Now, why don't you lose that stick that's shoved up your butt and just get in the freaking car?"

I gasp. Does he really think this is the way to get me to do what he wants? "You really don't know when to shut your mouth and leave people alone, do you?"

"You know what? Fine. I'm done with this crap."

He speeds off making his tires squeal. I sigh, feeling horrible. Not about Tom, though. He just doesn't know when to drop a subject and leave people alone. I'm not sorry for anything I've said to him. He deserves it.

"Why, thank you, God," I hear a voice say. "You've sent an angel right down for me."

I groan. I am really getting tired of dealing with people. Why can't they just leave me alone? That's all I really want. I turn around and see Chance and his lackeys. Tom is right, for once. Oh, joy. This day couldn't get any better.

There stands Chance, Brent, Scruffy, and Logan. What is it with all these guys hanging around me? I am starting to want all of the men of the earth to just disappear into space. That would be great, if only for a minute.

The thought of breaking into a run comes to mind, but I know I'll never get away and it will only make things worse for me. "What do you want?" I question in a dull tone.

The four guys move so that they surround me. There is no chance of escape now. "Baby," Chance says. "You really need to stop asking that. You know what I want and by the looks of it, I'm going to get it. It's too bad you didn't run away with Tomcat when you could've. Oh, wait, no it isn't, because now you get to spend some time with us."

I feign a smile. "Oh really now?"

"Oh yeah," he says putting an arm around my shoulder. "What happened? He try and knock you up or something?"

The other guys snicker. I grimace and shrug out from under his arm. "No."

"Well, hey, you're pretty hot. I don't see why he wouldn't at least _try_."

"He's interested in someone else," I say quickly.

"Aw, that's too bad. Guess you're free now, though, and that gives me a chance, don't it?"

I look at him as well as the other guys around me, studying my predicament. Maybe being bad isn't actually _so_ bad. I mean if Chance wanted me hurt or dead, he wouldn't hesitate. I know he has plans for me, but maybe I can play that to my advantage right now. I grin. "Maybe," I say starting to slowly walk away. "If you play your cards right, that is."

The guys let out catcalls. It's so cheesy, but I can't help but enjoy the attention. I turn back to them. "Well, you coming or not?"

I continue walking down the sidewalk and smile to myself as I hear the scuffle of the guy's shoes as they hurry to catch up with me. I have them in the palm of my hand. The power I am beginning to have feels good. I might just like it here. I could use a change of scenery.

I join Chance and his boys in his car and we drive downtown to Outback Steakhouse. We are seated in a booth and Chance tugs me into the spot next to him. I have to admit: this isn't as bad as I thought it might be. There is no tension like the kind I feel among my group of friends and I find it to be a great relief. I feel like I can finally breathe. "So, I finally get to know what you're really like," Chance says digging around in his pocket before pulling out a pack of Camel cigarettes and a cheap plastic lighter. I watch as he lights one up. "Tell me about yourself and what it is that has you wound up so tight."

I look at him uneasily as he takes a long drag, his broad chest expanding. "I'd forgotten you smoked…"

He turns a challenging gaze to me and slowly blows a cloud of smoke in my face. This sends me into a coughing fit and my eyes begin to sting and water. When I look back up at him, he is smirking at me. "Got a problem with it?"

"Actually," I say reaching up and taking the cigarette from his lips. I casually drop it into my glass of water. "I do."

His square jaw clenches and his eyes narrow. He stares at me hard for a long time and on the inside I am quivering like Jell-O. I look at the rest of the guys and find them staring hard at me as well. Maybe I shouldn't have done that. "So, what?" he asks finally. "You gonna get rid of the beer we have in the trunk, too?"

I pause. "Maybe."

He scoffs. "Yeah, right. You know, you ought to lighten up, sister. I'm not going to have some puckered-up goody-two-shoes lousing things up for me and mine."

"Well, I guess that's my cue to leave."

I start to climb out of the booth, but he quickly wraps his large fingers around my wrist so tight and jerks me back so hard that for a second I think he might have actually pulled my shoulder out of my socket and crushed my wrist. I glare back at him. "You're not going anywhere," he states, his voice a low, unwavering growl.

My heart is pounding as I look hard into his dark green eyes. They dare me to try my luck against him, but I know fighting him will only get me beaten behind the building. I reluctantly position myself back in my seat letting out a frustrated breath.

"Let's eat, huh?" he advises as if nothing's happened.

When the fun is over and it is about 10:30, Chance drives me home after dropping off his buddies. I groan as we pull up next to my driveway and see both Tom's car and Greg's Jeep parked there. I know I am going to get a worse scolding from the crew than my mother or father have ever given me in my life. That is a pretty scary thought. I sigh as Chance parks the car and shifts his body to face me. "You want me to go in and talk to him, just to make sure things are cool?"

I shake my head. "Nah, I don't think so. I don't want to chance things getting worse, you know?"

"Yeah," he sighs. "Don't start trouble when there's no call for it, right?"

I have to smile. "Like you'd know anything about that."

He chuckles. It's a nice sound, deep and full-bodied. "Well, you want me to pick you up tomorrow morning or what?"

"Maybe some other time, okay?"

"Gotcha. I guess I'll see you later then, huh?"

I get out of the car, secretly glad to be out of the way of danger. At first the evening wasn't so bad, but that changed fairly quickly. "You know it."

"See ya, baby."

"Bye," I say and make my way up onto the porch. I watch as Chance squeals away into the night and smile a little to myself. Maybe it wasn't all _that_ bad, I think as I find the door unlocked and step inside the house. Maybe if I had to, I could get used to Chance's unpredictable ways. I pause before shaking the thought from my mind.

It is dark and quiet inside the house. I don't even feel or hear Max come up to me. I close the front door and turn back around to face the darkness. "Okay, this had better not be some kind of surprise party."

Suddenly, light from the lamp on the table next to my father's recliner floods the den. There sits Sean in my father's chair. "Where on Earth have you been, missy?" he demands.

I raise an eyebrow at him suddenly feeling a little defensive. Normally I would take this joking act in good stride, but right now just the sight of my friends annoys me. I just really need a break from these people. "Excuse me?"

"You heard him," another voice speaks out. I look and see Tom walk next to the recliner. I see Greg, Lucy, and Jimmy all seated on the sofa. Great, it's an intervention. Tom steps over to me. "Where have you been?"

"Um, it seems to me that it really isn't any of your business where I've been. You're not my parents."

"No, but we're your friends, Angie. You owe us some type of respect. Going out with Chance? What respect does that show us? None!"

"It's down right degrading," Sean pipes in.

"Well, can you blame me?" I snap. I've had just about enough. I try and give myself some much-needed space from these people, just for one day, and here they are jumping down my throat. "I've had just about all of this crap I can take, so don't you even dare jump on my case, Tom. I've had just about all of _you_ I can take. You're worried about _me_ hanging with Chance? I think it's you that you should be worrying about!"

"Me? Angie, what are you talking about?"

I stand there dumbfounded. Is he really going to play the stupid card right now?

"Can we please just stop this? Can we just stop all this fighting? I hate it. I just want it to stop."

We're on a roll and I'm not about to stop now. We've been avoiding this issue for too long. "Oh, no. Something is wrong, Tom! It has to be fixed and it has to be fixed now. Nobody is leaving this house until this thing is solved once and for all!"

He grabs my arm firmly and leads me down the hallway where I jerk away from him. I can barely stand to look at him much less have him touching me. "What is your deal?"

He slowly lets out a breath and whispers, "Angie, don't you think it'd be best for Lucy not to know any of this?"

I pause for a second, trying to understand what he means, but I come up with nothing. "Huh?"

"Look, I'm having second thoughts about going back to her. I don't think we should tell her that I thought about it and then decided not to. It'd crush her and we'd just start more crap for no reason. Do you really want that?"

I stand there. My head seems to be spinning. "Tom, I could call you so many things right now-"

Shaking my head, I turn away, walking back into the den. "Sorry guys," I say, putting on my 'everything's normal' face. It's a face I've had to put on too often. The fakeness of it just bothers me. I'd love more than anything for it to be genuine. "Forget about what I said before. Everything's been straightened out."

"No, now _I_ want to get some questions answered," Sean speaks up. "This has been so haywire for the longest time. What's going on? What needs to be fixed and what does Tom have to do with it? I don't understand where you're getting all of this, Angie."

This tears me apart inside. The tension is so obvious, but we just continue to fight it. We think that maybe if we avoid acknowledging it long enough, maybe things will be okay. Tom steps beside me and puts an arm around me. His eyes meet mine, waiting for an answer, too, even though he already knows it. All of them do. We're just going through the motions of a seemingly endless façade. "Oh, that?" I say. "Sorry, that was nothing. Chance took me to a bar and I had a few drinks. I'm sorry to admit that I'm a little tipsy."

Sean gasps. "Underage drinking? Not you, Angie! It's taken you over! And here I always thought you were a good girl."

"Well, you were wrong. There's a side of me that you guys have never seen."

I am surprised that Lucy or Greg haven't said anything. I pretty much expect it from Jimmy, but usually Lucy can't keep her mouth shut. It surprises me that she can tonight especially given the circumstances. Does she know about Tom's change of mind? "No comment, Lucy?" I probe.

She shakes her head and silence falls among us. However, it doesn't last for long. "Although I can't understand _why_ you would hang out with Chance!" she blurts. "He's a pig, he's rude, he's not that attractive, and he's really got no sense of romance at all! How could you, Angie?"

I look up at Tom and he meets my gaze. We both smile openly. Good old Lucy. We all begin to laugh and she looks at us like we've lost our minds. "What? What did I say? I was speaking my mind!"

"Lucy," I say. "We love you."

"Well, I love you guys, too, but I don't see what's funny."

"It's nothing. Hey, have you guys had anything to eat?"

Tom shakes his head. "Have you?"

"Yeah, but it wasn't very much and I'm hungry again. You want to order a pizza?"

"Sounds good to me. What about the rest of you guys?"

There is a mixture of nods and mumbles of approval. "We should rent some movies to go with those pizzas," Sean puts in.

"And you all should spend the night," I say.

"On a Monday night?" Lucy cries.

"Yeah, our rides are here and Hilda can fix breakfast."

"But something that's not here is changes of clothes," Greg states.

"Eh, you can run down to your houses real quick and be back with some before the pizza gets here. You know those delivery guys take forever."

"She's right," Tom says. "It'd be fine. Wait, what about your parents? What will they think of this?"

"They won't care."

It's true. I know they won't. They love my friends that much. While the boys are gone getting what they need for the night, Lucy and I decide to set up the den for them by throwing blankets and pillows around. For once the crew is going to have a much-needed nice and relaxing evening.


	6. Chapter 6

Ch. 6

Over the course of the next two days, Duane starts finding his rhythm amongst the gang, even with Lucy trying to keep him all to herself and get to know him better. The only problem is that even though the situation of him being in the crew now is becoming less awkward, he still doesn't say much. Tom of course is all over this saying that we can't trust him because we don't know anything about him. I simply let him yammer on for I know it is his only way to release some of his pent up steam. I know it's still going to take a lot of work and time though to get the crew –with the exclusion of Lucy- to start to relax whenever he's around, but I'm prepared to face this task.

That Thursday at school, I am gathering up my books for one of my classes. The crew is nowhere to be found and I find it a little odd, but I decide to shrug it from my mind. With all this new tension from the situation with Duane, it's not too bad that we gain some space from each other.

Upon closing my locker door, I see Duane standing right there and gasp at his sudden presence. He merely stands there, watching me with intense, dark eyes. "Goodness, Duane. I didn't realize you were standing there."

"Sorry I startled you," he speaks quietly, but steadily, his face expressionless as usual. The thought of him being a good poker player crosses my mind.

"Oh, no, it's fine." I reply and begin walking to my next class. He follows.

"Why don't you let me carry those?" he offers gesturing to the books I have wrapped in my arms.

"Thank you," I say handing them over to him. He takes them with ease. Maybe it's me, but those books are pretty heavy. He must work out. How else would he have such a chiseled body?

"Angie?"

"Yes?"

"There is something I wanted…or something I would like to ask you."

I cease in my walking and turn to face him. He mimics me. For some reason, I don't think this is going to be the type of question I want to hear. Please don't ask me to the Halloween Ball…

"Angie, would you like to go with me to the Halloween Ball?"

Drat!

He continues. "I know it's sudden and I apologize. It's just that I would really like to begin taking opportunities when I see them. I used to not do anything I wasn't familiar with, but now I want to get more involved. Do you understand?"

I nod slowly, struggling to stay focused on what he is saying. It's difficult when my thoughts are suddenly whirling around Tom and Lucy.

"I would like to go to a school dance. Believe it or not, I've never been to one, and you seem like the right person to ask to accompany me."

I apply my fake smile. "Well, you know, Lucy would really enjoy going with you." I know this for a fact. She hasn't shut up about hoping that Duane will ask her to the Ball since the first announcement about it had been made. I had been hoping that since the two of them sit together quietly conversing in Science, Lucy usually doing all the talking, that it might give Duane a small push towards her. Maybe I'm just scared of her getting hurt again and afraid she'll think I'm stealing away another one of her guys. Ever since the situation involving Tom and me, guys have been such a touchy subject between she and I, and it's created more stress than I would like to have.

"I'm sorry, but I really don't care for Lucy," he says. "Not in that way. She seems to be a little clingy."

At least he's not afraid to voice his opinion… "I can understand why you might get that impression. She tends to get that way sometimes, but really, she's a great person once you really get to know her."

"Well, you don't seem-"

I look into his dark eyes, waiting for him to finish, but after a long pause, I probe. "Seem what?"

"You don't seem as desperate."

Again, at least he isn't afraid to speak his mind. I guess it's better than having someone say these things behind your back and pretending to be a friend to your face. "Oh…" is all I can manage.

"I apologize if I'm offending you."

"No, take it all in good stride I always say," I respond smiling uneasily.

"That's good. That is another reason I wanted to ask you to the Ball. I don't think I'll have to worry about every move I make or every word that passes my lips. I'm comfortable around you." He looks at me. "Will you accept my invitation?"

"Well-" I think for a minute. I don't want him to be miserable going with someone he doesn't care for and I don't want him to go alone, but then there's Lucy. I'm sure if I explain everything she'll be okay with it. "Sure, I'll go."

He smiles openly. It is the first time I've seen him do it and it is simply stunning, hypnotizing even. It's an incredibly alluring sight as his perfectly sculpted lips reveal a set of gleaming white teeth that can be described as nothing other than perfect. It makes my heart race with a growing desire, a yearning for _him_. I quickly shake myself from the abrupt trance. "Thank you," he speaks softly.

A minute passes between us, each of us staring into the other's eyes. It is only the slight pressure I start to feel in my head that pulls me back into reality. I need to get to Math. "I think we should be getting to class," I say finally.

He nods and we continue on our way. Neither of us saying a word gives me some time with my own thoughts. I'm sure that conversation couldn't have been any weirder. I really hope he couldn't tell my mind was skipping all over the place. Maybe I shouldn't have eaten that odd looking banana at lunch. I sigh. What a time it will be trying explaining this to Tom and Lucy.

As Tom pulls into my driveway at the end of the day, he sighs. His hand shifts the gear into park and flips the ignition off. He sits there silent for a minute or two before reaching over, placing a hand on my knee, and meeting a charming gaze with mine. Here it comes: the moment I've been dreading all day. "So, how'd you like to go to the Halloween Ball with me, hm?"

Great. It's time to suit up and get ready for battle. The missiles are about to start flying. "Um, Tom, I've kind of already been asked."

Wait for it… "Oh? By whom?" he questions casually.

"Duane."

Wait for it… "Hmm. Well, what'd you tell him?"

I bite my lip, hesitant to answer; not so much regarding the choice I made, but more so Tom's reaction to it. "I told him that I would go," I announce finally.

We have blast off! "What? Angel, what were you thinking? You should have let Lucy have him and let me have you! I want you to go with me."

"I'm sorry, Tom."

Another moment of silence dances between us. The rain of missiles has stopped for now. "Okay, fine, I'll be flexible. I'll just have to ask Lucy I guess."

This idea he has come up with on his own makes me very happy. Tom can stand to lose some of that stubbornness of his. "I bet she would like that," I say.

"Yeah, if she doesn't take it the wrong way," he shoots at me, making me eat my own fears.

I look at him, hurt. "That wasn't nice," I state quietly.

"Sorry, Angel. It's just that I really wanted to take you."

"It's okay. Maybe you'll get another chance when Winter Formal comes around."

"Can I ask you now?"

"No."

"What? Why not?"

"It's too early. I don't know if I'll be able to go. Something might come up. I might even get sick. That and it's not fair to Duane."

He stares at me, giving me a look that clearly says that he does not believe a word I am saying. "How's it not fair?"

"He's not here. Ask when you're both at school. That way he'll get a fair chance to ask me, too. I'm just worried he won't have someone to go with him. He still hasn't made any friends, Tom."

He shakes his head. "That's crap, but whatever."

I get out of the car ignoring his attitude. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure." He restarts his car and pulls away.

I don't know what I am going to do with him, I swear. His attitude is really starting to get to me like it never has before. I take a couple of deep breaths before entering the house attempting to leave the negativity outside. My cell phone starts ringing as soon as I step through the door and I pull it out of my pocket. "Hello?"

"Oh my gosh," Lucy cries over the line. "What is wrong with that boy? Duane still hasn't asked me to the Halloween Ball yet and it's tomorrow!"

Wonderful. It's time to unleash another wave of missiles. The battle with Tom wasn't as bad as I had imagined it might be, so maybe this won't be so bad either. That still doesn't mean I'm happy about doing it. I sigh. "Lu-Lu?"

"Si?"

"Lucy, I am so sorry, but he's kind of already asked me to go with him."

The silence that slams between us is almost unbearable as well as the amount of tension it clings to us with. It actually starts to feel a little more difficult to breathe. I cringe as I can almost hear the sound of her tear shatter like glass as it hits her tiled kitchen floor. Sometimes I really dislike that everyone in the crew knows each other so well that we can tell almost exactly what is going on over a phone line. "W-when?" she asks.

"Just today."

"I-I don't understand…"

"Lu-Lu, I told him when he asked me that you would be so happy if he asked you."

I can hear her clear her throat, trying to steady her voice before continuing to speak. "What did he say?"

I pause.

"Tell me. I have a right to know."

I sigh once again and try to come up with the least hurtful version of Duane's invitation. Lucy's heard some nasty things from other people about herself before and it hasn't phased her one bit, but she's got her heart set on this guy… I just can't bring myself to tell her what he said. "He said- He told me that he doesn't think of you that way."

"Oh."

I remain quiet and she does as well. I can tell she's absorbing the information I've given her and finding a way to deal with it.

"Well," she sighs. The thought of some sort of sighing disease going around distracts my attention momentarily. "It's not the worse thing that's been said. I guess I'll just have to go with Tom. He hasn't found someone else has he?"

It makes me happy that she's choosing to be flexible along with Tom. Maybe there's hope for us yet. "No. Actually, he's going to ask you. He told me."

I know a smile is creeping upon her face right now. "Well, I guess I'll see you at the dance, chickadee!"

"You know it."

With that, I hang up the phone and stand there for a minute, thinking about what has just happened and a smile creeps its way upon my own face. I am so relieved that things didn't explode like I thought they might and instead they are relaxed and cool, but then a different thought comes to mind. I need to find a dress, pronto. I also need a ride since I know Tom's probably still a little cranky from earlier. I don't want to deal with that right now. I flip open my phone once again and dial Greg's number. "Hello?" a voice comes over the line.

"Greg! It's me. I need to get a dress for tomorrow and I need a ride."

"Angie," Sean's voice comes. "You shouldn't put these things off."

I roll my eyes. "I know."

"And don't roll your eyes at me! Give me some respect, woman!"

This sends me looking around the room at the windows. Sometimes the fact that we all know each other so well really freaks me out. "Okay, Sean, that's really creepy that you know me that well."

"It's his best feature," Greg comes back. "Being weird, you know."

I can hear Sean exclaim off in the distance and smile.

"Okay, well, we'll be over in a bit."

"Okay, see you soon," I say and hang up the phone. I scurry upstairs to primp myself up before going out and make sure I have money. Just as soon as I have finished that task, I hear the doorbell start chiming over and over again. I know it's Sean. I tear the door open and playfully punch his arm before joining him in Greg's Jeep. It takes about two and a half hours of nonstop shopping at the mall, but in the end I really do believe I have found the perfect dress.


	7. Chapter 7

Ch. 7

(Duane's Perspective)

I stop by the mirror in the upstairs hallway and stare into it. It holds nothing. There is no reflection. There is absence of anything except the opposing hallway wall.

Sighing, I turn my gaze away from the truthful slab of glass and continue on my way to the stairs. I descend from them, landing on the first floor.

The house is barren, still the exact same as when I first purchased it. There is no sign of any life. It is as though nothing lives here. In fact, that is true. Nothing _lives _here.

I raise my wrist, glancing at my watch. It is almost time to pick _her_ up. How I came up with the idea of trying to be anything more than what I am was incredibly stupid. Tonight, I will be risking everything. I will be risking _her._

A whimper comes from beside me. I slowly turn my head and look at a young woman. She is simple. She is pretty. She is not beautiful. She is not gorgeous. She will not be missed. She sits up against the wall, a white cloth muffling her would-be cries of fear, her wrists and ankles bound.

I turn my body to face her. She stares at me, eyes moist due to tears slipping from behind her lids. Fear is pure within them.

I close my own eyes and take a deep, even breath of air. The heavy, enticing scent of fear and terror in it suddenly, yet briefly, overwhelms me.

A shudder ripples through my body and I open my eyes once more, resting my gaze upon the girl. I step closer to her. She shifts suddenly and begins to cry out. "Shh," I whisper. "You don't have to be afraid."

I kneel down beside her, reach out and behind her head, and untie the cloth, taking it away from her soft lips. She looks at me. "What-"

"I'm sorry," I interrupt. "I am terribly sorry, miss. I was dared by my friends to do this. It seemed harmless at the time, but now I see that I have truly frightened you. I am quite sorry."

"You're friends are crazy. You are, too! You don't just grab someone off the street and take him or her hostage! What were you thinking?"

I am silent as I untie the restraints from her ankles and wrists. I look into her light blue eyes and she stares back into mine. "Are you okay now?"

"Yeah," she answers. "I just want to get home, please."

I crane my head to look at the overall living room. Something on the wall catches my attention. The blood stains. They have faded over time, but the scent is still strong. It is then that I am lost.

I turn back to the girl. Her eyes widen and her breath catches in her throat. I know then that she has seen what I truly am. "What are you?" she asks, fear shaking her voice.

I slowly lean in and whisper lightly into her ear, "I am what you deeply fear…"

I straighten up and look at her once more. "…And yet, what you deeply desire…"

Within a fraction of a second, I have her grasped firmly by her shoulders. I jerk her toward me and brush her long blond hair back away from her throat, tilting her head.

I bare my teeth and sink my protracted fangs deep into the flesh of her neck, slicing nerves and veins. Sweet, sticky, warm blood pumps and flows into my mouth. The flavor dances upon my tongue and the life-giving liquid trickles down my throat.

The girl has begun to shout out, to scream, but as the life quickly flows out of her, she loses the energy to do so. Her body rapidly becomes limp in my arms.

As soon as the very last drop of life has been drained of her, I pull away and let the now pale, lifeless body crumple onto the floor. I stand up slowly, staring at the girl. My tongue easily traces over my teeth and quickly checks my lips for any stray drop of liquid.

Clean.

I sigh as I pick up the body and effortlessly carry it outside to the backyard. I trek several hundred feet from the building before dropping the body once more into the woods. The wolves will clean up the mess. They always do.

I look at my watch again. It is time to leave. It is time to get _her_. Now, after I have fed, I am sure there will be less risk of revealing myself to _her_, or even worse…

…killing _her_.

I reach for the keys in my pocket. I fish them out and walk around the old house to the garage. I enter it and get into my car.

Tonight will be quite different. But trying different things has never hurt anyone…

Maybe that will change.

…

(Angie's Perspective)

I am dabbing a little bit of peach-flavored lip-gloss upon my lips when the doorbell rings. It must be Duane. "Be right down!" I holler and hurry to finish getting ready.

It is the night of the Halloween Ball. I don't really have any desire to go, but since Duane asked me, I figure it will be nice to give him something to look forward to. It just seems like he needs some kind of little happiness in his life, a little bit of fun perhaps. These school dances hardly ever turn out to be that way though.

I hurry downstairs in the dress I have bought. It is really a nice, long, black dress held up with spaghetti straps. The skirt of it falls straight to my ankles meeting a pair of strappy, black pumps. Thin lines of orange sequins twist their way up from the bottom of the dress, stopping when they near my hips.

I have my dark hair curled and up in a bun with just a few tendrils coming down to frame my face. I glance one last time in the den mirror making sure everything is in place. Due to his reaction the first time he met Duane, I have Max stay in my room with his Kong toy filled with peanut butter before opening the front door.

I smile as I see Duane standing there on the small porch. He looks up from the ground and directly into my eyes. I stare back silently at him, looking him over. He looks good. He looks _really_ good. He dons a nice, expensive-looking black tuxedo with a bow tie on his neck. I look down and see that he is wearing fancy Italian shoes. I knew he had to have a pair.

His features seem to be enhanced by the light of the sky. The sun is setting, giving the earth a reddish-orange tint. It provides the world with a new, relaxed, romantic mood.

As I look deeply into his eyes, I find a dull, yet strong aching starts to rise up in my body. His dark eyes have a type of mystery to them. They see to have an element of persuasion and passion about them in the orange light. It seems as if they follow every single curve of my body as they study me.

His lips seem as if they are sculpted straight from fine marble. They compliment the smooth plane of his face in an extraordinary way. They look so smooth and so soft that I want suddenly to kiss them, just to see what they will hold in store for me. Will they lead me to demise? Will they lead me to ecstasy? A fire of burning desire to know swells up inside of me.

I find myself wanting to run my fingers through the rich darkness of his fine hair. He has his hair parted to the side as he usually does and the side-swept bangs that fall upon his brow give him his perfect appearance. It provides him with a bit of an edge. It enhances every other detail about him that simply makes my heart start to pound. The blackness of it gives his characteristics more intensity and makes something in the back of my mind wonder if it just might be the slightest bit dangerous to go out into the night with him.

I want to know what it is like to be in love with a man of his disposition. He seems to move with such grace. He seems to calculate every move he makes to make sure it is fluid, smooth, and in every way beautiful.

There is absolutely no way he is from New York. He can't be! I believe he has more the look of an Englishman somehow. If he is, I wonder if every boy where he is from looks as good as he does. If they do, I am definitely moving.

A thought enters my mind. I wonder if he has ever been in a relationship. I wonder if he has ever possessed a girlfriend. Something peculiar makes me wonder if he has ever known the feeling of love, if he has ever loved or been loved. He is so quiet, serious, and he mostly keeps to himself. I ponder at this.

I don't have long to think about the answers to my questions though, for Duane extends a slender hand, offering to lead me out into the night. I reach back into the house and take up my purse. After slipping it over my shoulder, I take Duane's hand in my own. It seems to have an unusual chill, but my body quickly adjusts to it and no more thought is given.

He leads me over to his silver Porsche, opens the passenger's side door, and helps me inside. I thank him. He nods, closing the door. He glides over to the driver's side and situates himself in the car. With a reach into his pocket, he produces the car keys, turns them in the ignition, and the car purrs to life.

He backs out of my driveway and we are well on our way to the school.


	8. Chapter 8

Ch. 8

Upon arriving at the school grounds, I watch as Duane faultlessly exits from the car, steps around to my side, and opens the door to let me out. I smile politely up at him, but his intense eyes sear deep into mine nearly making me gasp out loud.

I quickly regain control of myself and step out of the car. I thank him and he merely nods as he so often does. He fluidly loops his arm through my own and begins to court me toward the doors of the gym.

As we step through the double doors, I am genuinely surprised. It is nothing like the Halloween Ball from last year. It is so much better! The decorations are incredible. There are black, green, and purple streamers hanging in large tassels from the ceiling and a disco ball right in the center of it all. Among the crowd are three or four students on unicycles in black and orange jester costumes handing out appetizers on silver trays. Even a big cauldron, a real cast-iron cauldron with some icky, bubbly substance boiling away inside, sits in the middle of the floor!

The whole scene is divided into two parts. One side of the gym consists of a bunch of round tables with black tablecloths that have candles in miniature cauldrons in the center of them. Off to the side of the tables, there is a small buffet with a few student council members tending to the food. The other side of the gym consists of space that is set up into a dance floor with a DJ off to the side. The whole place looks amazing.

Sissy and Luke, the king and queen of this Ball, sit on thrones on a small platform at one end of the gym. They are the people responsible for tonight since they are both Presidents of Student Council. They have done a wonderful job.

Everyone looks great, too. There were so many gorgeous dresses and gowns. All the girls look very beautiful and elegant. The guys look just as good. I must say, I've always admired guys in tuxedos. They can make any guy look suave.

Duane's expression of the place seems indifferent, blasé, nonchalant. He just doesn't seem impressed, but then again, I suppose I'm almost always easily impressed. Maybe they have finer dances in New York…

There's a tap on my shoulder and I turn around to see the gang. All Tom, Sean, Greg, and Jimmy are in tuxedos and Lucy is in a very nice short, black, spaghetti strap gown that flows around her knees and shiny, black open-toe heels. She has her curls at the top of the back of her head in a bouncy, stylish ponytail and a cute little diamond necklace rests around her neck. "Angie! We found you! See guys? I told you it wouldn't be that hard to find her! Oh- oh goodness, hi Duane!"

He nods to her. "How are you this evening?"

She smiles bright, but then looks at me once again and her smile fades. She tones herself down a bit, but tries not to reveal the hurt deep down inside as she remembers that she isn't here with him. "I'm doing very well, and you?"

"Fairly good myself."

"Don't you just love how the place looks guys?" she exclaims as she tries to avert the awkwardness. "It's so awesome!"

Tom finally steps forward from the group wearing a guarded look upon his face. "Hey, Angel."

I try to put on a believable smile. "Hi, Tom. How are you?"

He shrugs. "Could be better, I suppose."

I stare hard into his eyes, suddenly determined to not let him punch me down. "I'm sorry things aren't going so well for you."

"I'll live, bout how about you?"

I furrowed my eyebrows confused by his question. "What?"

"How are you?"

"Oh! I'm fine, yeah, fine."

A moment of awkward silence passes among all of us. We are standing in a circle, and yet everyone is looking outside of it at other people, the decorations, or the food. Only Jimmy and I are the ones looking inside the little circle of ours. He shrugs at me and I can only return the gesture.

"So," Sean suddenly says bringing everyone's attention back into the circle. Everyone stares at him, wanting him to continue and break the ice that has frozen over us all. He shrinks back. "Hey, can you guys not do that? You're giving me stage fright. It's almost as bad as this awk-"

Tom elbows him and soon we're back to being on the sheet of ice. We watch as a few people make their way onto the dance floor and begin to dance to the eerie, soft melody of an organ playing over the gym speakers that are hooked up to some stereo.

Tom is the one who breaks the ice next. "Hey, Angel?"

"Hm?" I respond and notice how everyone turns his or her attention to the circle again.

"You want something to drink?"

Is he really asking me that? I'm not here with him and he knows that. I shoot him a small look of disapproval.

"What? Why do you have to always shoot down my efforts, Angie? I'm just trying to-"

"Would you shut up?" I cry, knowing we don't need this tension out in the open.

He groans. "Whatever," he mutters as he starts to walk toward the punch bowl subtly giving Greg and Sean the motion to follow.

I sigh, suddenly very tired. It seems as if trying to avoid the tension that surrounds us only makes it worse. Maybe I'm trying too hard. I'm just at a loss as to what to do about it anymore it seems.

"He shouldn't have done that," Jimmy says quietly.

I give him a small nod before quickly getting lost in my own thoughts.

"So," Lucy begins, tired of this awkwardness just as much as me. "Do you like it here, Duane? This little community or whatever?"

He turns his gaze toward her. "Yes, it's very nice. I'm sure I'll be enjoying myself for quite a while here."

She lets a smile creep upon her lips. Duane does the same, but there's something about it…

At the punch bowl, Tom is pouring Grape soda into a cup for me while Greg and Sean, who are standing on either side of him, pour their own drinks. "I hate him," Tom mutters.

Sean and Greg look at him, behind him and at each other, and then continue with what they are doing.

"He has no right," Tom proceeds. "…To just waltz in and take my girl!"

"Uh-" Greg starts.

"I know! She's not really mine, but she should be. Now he's gonna take her away. I don't stand a chance anymore."

Sean and Greg glance at each other once more and exchange puzzled looks. "That's not necessarily true," Greg says. "If she can't date you, then she can't date him. The same reasoning applies to both you and him, and that's that she's still not over Doyle."

"That's why you're my friend Greg," Tom says as he finishes pouring a drink for Lucy and one for himself. He hands Greg his drink and then picks both mine and Lucy's up.

They both look at Sean.

"Hey," he says. "I'm just here."

They walk back over to us. Tom hands Lucy her drink and then offers me mine. I take it carefully and peer over my cup as I take a sip and watch as Tom takes his drink from Greg. Something is going on, I have a feeling, but I shake it off and look at Duane. "I'm sorry. If I'd known Tom was going to play bartender I would've made him grab you drink. He'd still be happy to go and get something if you'd like."

I catch a glance of Tom's disapproving look.

Duane looks down at me. "No. I'm fine. Thank you."

"Hey!"

We all turn to look at who has shouted in our direction. It's Chance's posse. They strut up to us. I must admit that Meg and Dru look very nice. When I first lay eyes on them, my breath almost catches in my throat. They nearly look like angels, goddesses even…

Dru has her fine, sleek black hair divided in two parts. She has left the bottommost part of her hair cascading down her shoulders in soft ringlets that nearly reach the small of her back. She has pulled the topmost section into a small ponytail and has long ringlets that come down and blend into the rest of her hair.

She wears a long, silk, red, spaghetti strap gown that has fine, black lace around the top, the waist, and flows down the skirt of the dress. Sequins subtly cover the spaces in between. She accessorizes it with a thick, diamond choker necklace that has a few teardrops resting softly against her collarbone. This outfit suits her very well. She's always sort of followed the dark, gothic style of things.

Meg wears a simple deep cyan colored dress that appears to be made of satin. Its strapless and the fitted bodice compliments her slim figure very well. The waist of the dress drops and then sweeps into a long skirt that touches to the floor. A thick line of black lace is attached to the neck of the dress as well as the sleeves and the hem. It is simple, yet eye-catching, but nothing compared to her companion's. I've always felt a little bad for Meg always being second to Dru, but I keep out of it.

"Chance, what are you doing here?" Tom questions not bothering to hide the utter distaste in his voice.

Chance just grins wide and looks at all of us, resting his gaze on me just a little bit longer than everyone else. "We came to enjoy the party, man. Got an issue with it?"

"You know what I mean. 'Here' as in around us, inside our conversation."

He clears his throat. "What conversation? I sure didn't hear anything or see anyone's mouth flapping. I came over to see if Miss Angel might like to have a dance with me."

The crew gives me looks that all but shout 'no', but I'm tired of being under their thumb and under the weight of the tension. What could happen? "Sure, that would be nice," I say and turn to Duane. "You don't mind do you?"

He shakes his head, expressionless.

I manage to give him a small smile and hand my drink to Tom as Chance leads me away. As he does, I can feel everyone of the crew staring after me. I do my best to shrug it off and turn to Chance as we step onto the dance floor. A slow, dark tune flows from the speakers.

Chance turns his body toward mine and places a gentle hand on my waist while he twines the fingers of his other one through my own. I rest my free arm lightly on his shoulder and our bodies fall into a slow swaying rhythm. It isn't until a moment later, I hear, "You're not even gonna look at me?"

I realize I'd been avoiding direct eye contact with him. I slowly peer up at him from underneath my lashes. My eyes find their way up to his and lock there. I feel my heartbeat pick up a bit and my stomach seems to turn to jelly. What am I doing?

He smirks at me.

I know this is bad. I shouldn't be dancing with him. I shouldn't be near him at all. He is quite possibly the most dangerous thing I could ever put myself around. His eyes confirm this always. They hint at hidden motives. They are intense and I find myself trapped. I find it hard to look away. I feel a sense of relaxation being with him, not having to worry about stepping on feelings or crap like that and yet, I am disgusted by him. "What do you want, Chance?" I finally manage to get out.

He glances to the side at the crew and gives a small shrug. "You really need to ask?"

"Besides that," I mumble feeling myself blush a little. I was happy for the dim lights.

He looks back at me. "Angie, people want what they can't have. When they realize they can't have it, they only try harder to get it. Look, I'm not in love with you, not really. I do it mostly for the pleasure of royally ticking the Cat off." He grins as he looks directly at Tom.

"I don't get it," I whisper and look down, closing my eyes.

"Of course you don't. You're too lost in you're posse's little soap opera. You torture yourselves. I find it quite entertaining. You guys and all your emotions… Don't think I haven't noticed how you act with me, though. You like the feeling of freedom you get. I'd even like to see you let loose a little more. Think of the fun you could have. No worries…"

Is he trying to persuade me? Really? "I'm not leaving my friends, Chance." I narrow my eyes as I return my gaze back up to him.

He scoffs. "You and your loyalty…" He looks back into my eyes and his grin fades. Oh, no.

Chance tilts his head slightly and slowly leans in, bringing our faces closer together. I close my eyes and hold my breath, my heartbeat drumming in my ears.

I jump ever so slightly as his low voice quietly fills my ear. "We both know what you want, Angelina. Maybe if you figure out what in the world is actually going on and are ready, we'll go get it, hm?"

I clench my teeth and quietly release my breath. I keep my eyes closed and try to slow my heartbeat down. I don't know what is going on and in actuality, I do. I know everything. I just have this internal battle with acknowledging it and it frustrates me that I really don't know what to do about it.

My skin tingles at the light touch of Chance's lips on my jaw just below my earlobe. I pull away and shove him as I feel him start to actually kiss my earlobe and his lips press more firmly against my skin. As I turn to walk away, I see Tom start to saunter over sensing something going on but I wave him to back off. I don't even look back at Chance as I make my way back to the crew. I can feel him grinning after me. My whole body prickles. I want to take a bath.

I sit down at one of the tables the crew has claimed. I find my drink and take a big sip feeling hot. "What was that all about?" Sean asks.

My eyes meet his. He nods and drops the topic.

"So, Duane, would you like to dance?" Lucy questions.

Duane lets a corner of his mouth tilt up slightly and he nods. He stands up, helps Lucy out of her chair, and they walk away to the dance floor. I sigh.

"Are you going to be ok?" Tom asks looking at me.

I nod silently not wanting to talk just now. I look at Tom and see he's watching Chance dance gracefully with Dru. He shoves his fists into his pockets and I think I hear a growl come from him. "Man, I just want to kick his…patootey."

"What?!" Sean blurts.

"What?" Tom looks at Sean.

"Dude, did u seriously just say that?"

"Yeah, I know, I know. Now, shut up, would ya?"

"You're losing it, man."

Tom returns his gaze to Chance, but then turns it in the direction of Lucy and Duane. He sighs and takes a seat next to me. We share an understanding glance and then watch as the others drift onto the dance floor as well.

We all eat later than most of the people there. The food is very good but I don't feel very hungry, so Sean and Greg finish what I have left.

I dance with Duane once, but it isn't that great. He seems distant. This first occasion of ours isn't going as well as I thought it might have. It isn't entirely his fault though. Most of it has to do with the tension and Chance. Sometimes I wish outside influences could just disappear for one day, but that's next to super impossible.

After a while, I dance with Tom. I lay my head on his shoulder and have my arms wrapped around his neck. He holds me firmly and yet, it is gentle enough to let me know that I can step away anytime I want. I keep my eyes closed. Neither of us speaks. There is no need to. There is nothing to say. Besides, even if we did say anything, the other person would have already thought of it.

When the party is over, Duane takes Lucy home and I end up riding home with Tom. Greg, Sean, and Jimmy find their way home in Greg's Jeep. As I get out of the car and start walking up my driveway, Tom calls out. "Angie?"

I turn to face him.

"You want me to stay with you tonight? You seem- I don't want you to be alone. I don't think you need that now, but if you want space…"

I silently wave him to follow as I step up onto the porch. He parks the car as I unlock the door.

When I get my pajamas on, do my nightly routine and lay there in my bed, staring up at the ceiling, a soft knock comes at my door. I roll my head to the side to see Tom step in and close the door gingerly behind him. Max, who is curled up on his bed, doesn't stir.

Tom steps over to me. "It was tough tonight."

I just nod. To talk seems like it would take an immense amount of effort right now.

"I wish things were easier, Angie. I don't even know how we got here. I don't know why things have to be so difficult or why they can't change. I don't know what to do to change it all. It just keeps getting harder."

"I know," I whisper. "Guess we've got to deal though."

"Yeah," he sighs. "I know for a fact you're tired, so I'll let you sleep." He leans over, kisses my cheek, and turns to head for the door. "Sleep well. Tomorrow is Saturday, a new day. I love you. Goodnight."

"I love you, too, Tom. Goodnight."


	9. Chapter 9

Ch. 9

Everything is dark except I can tell there is light coming from somewhere through my eyelids. I manage to blink them open to a soft, sunny, blue, cloudless sky. I smile as I lower my gaze to my surroundings.

I find myself on a small, lush, grassy knoll in a grand clearing of trees. I can hear birds singing softly in the distance, but something off to the side catches my eye.

I turn my head and suddenly lose my ability to move. I'm even afraid to breathe, because I feel that if I do, then whatever is happening will all disappear. My heart is pounding, my breath staggering. I feel my throat start to tighten and tears try to make their escape from behind my eyes. This can't be real.

There beside me lay Doyle.

He is perfect, just as the day I last saw him alive. His fine, walnut colored hair shines underneath the sunlight. A tender, magnolia-scented breeze causes the bangs of his shag haircut to be gently swept to the side following the left side part he usually kept his hair in. His smooth, lightly tanned skin glows in the warm sunlight. He has on my favorite shirt of his: a cream colored button-down, a pair of designer jeans and his brown low-cut Converse shoes. He's also got on the brown leather strapped watch that never worked but he always wore anyway. It was a family heirloom of sorts. He even has on the shark-tooth necklace that I'd given him as a silly Valentine's present for our first Valentine's Day.

I watch in increasing shock as his eyes slowly flutter open, his nostrils flare as he takes in a deep breath of the sweet air that surrounds us, and his lips start to curl into that familiar, easy smile that I always adored.

With a trembling hand, I slowly extend my arm until my fingers just brush against his smooth face. His light grey-green eyes lower their sights until they finally rest on me. His smile widens as he sits himself up and takes me into his secure, firm and comforting embrace. I completely melt to fit into every niche of his body as I cling to him, quietly gasping for breath.

This is impossible…

He pulls back and looks at me with genuine concern. He reaches out and gently wipes a finger along my cheek. It is only then that I realize I am crying. "Angel," he calls soothingly. "What's wrong? You're shaking."

I can barely find my voice. My mind is going a million miles a minute wondering how this is happening, why, and for how long. Just as one thought wants to be voiced, another one jams its way in. I force myself to take a couple of deep breaths. Freaking out isn't going to get me anywhere.

Once I believe I'm a little more or less collected, and make sure my voice is a little less wavering, I begin to speak. "Doyle, I don't even know what to say. Everything I think of sounds so cliché and like it just doesn't express how I really feel at all. I've missed you…for so long it seems, so much I can't even begin to express- I just can't believe I get to see you again, touch you- There's so much I need to tell you-" I stop as my throat constricts and tears swell up behind my lids.

He just smiles lovingly and takes me in his arms once more, laying my head on his chest so that I can hear his heartbeat. I close my eyes and allow the sound to calm me. I've missed it so much. "I'm here, Angie. I told you I would never leave you, didn't I?"

I slowly raise my head up to meet his gaze and I nod. I know I must look like a mess, but I don't care. These emotions of mine have reached their spilling point. This is easily the greatest day of my life. My wishes have come true and I couldn't ask for anything more.

He brushes a small strand of hair from my face and carefully tucks it behind my ear. His voice drops to a deep, soothing whisper. "Angie, I love you. Nothing will ever change that. I only wish you knew how much you really mean to me… And even through death, you're the one I will always cherish, want, and take care of. I promise."

"I love you, too, Doyle. You don't know how hard it's been without you, keeping things together-"

"Shh…"

I close my eyes and sigh quietly knowing I shouldn't be getting so strung out. I mean, we have time don't we? Time to talk about everything?

"Angel."

Every thought buzzing through my mind immediately ceases. Oh, how I've missed they way he calls my name… I lift my gaze up to his where I close my eyes as he leans in slowly and gently presses his sweet lips against mine in the most beautiful kiss I've longed for just one more time for the longest time. I allow myself to get lost in its sweetness, its safety, its warmth and carefully wrap my arms around his neck as I feel his arms slide around my waist and hold me firmly.

I press my body against his not wanting this moment to end anytime soon, not even to take a breath.

Something changes, though. The fine hairs on my arms and neck start to stand up as goose bumps make their presence on my skin. I open my eyes to find the sky has darkened with purple and black clouds. Low thunder rumbles.

I realize I am alone.

Looking around I realize I am in the local cemetery, sitting right in front of Doyle's headstone. My heart sinks and my body starts to shake as everything begins to crash down around me. I cover my face with my hands and let the sobs wrack my body as they flow freely with each gasp of breath I take.

Then I feel my arm being grabbed. I gasp and look to see a boney, rotting arm protruding from Doyle's grave and the hand is wrapped tightly around my wrist. I scream as I spot the watch Doyle always wore.

I look around frantically and start scrambling trying to get away, continuing to scream at the top of my lungs. Something catches my eye for the briefest moment in the field below the hill. A person that looks vaguely familiar. It is too far to tell.

I continue in my effort to yank free, screaming more when I see that I'm pulling up a boney, sunken face. "Angie," a hollow voice calls. "I'll never leave you."

I bolt from my bed screaming and into a corner panting, chest heaving. Max raises his head looking at me sadly realizing something that I am beginning to realize too. I'm having the nightmares again. I look at my clock. It is 3:14 A.M.

I can't move. I am paralyzed with fear. I can't go back to sleep either. I won't. It can't be done. It is too early to start to make breakfast, so I do the only thing I can do. I curl up on my side in the corner and start to cry holding nothing back.

"Angel."

I stir a little, not fully out of the darkness of sleep. I feel a hand on my arm and it all comes back to me, the dream. I suddenly punch out and jerk away screaming as I open my eyes just as I start to crawl away from whatever it is that has touched me. It suddenly jumps out at me and grabs me by the waist and starts to drag me to it. I scream louder and start to flail.

"Angie!"

What has grabbed me jerks me to face it, but I clamp my eyes shut not wanting to see it, the skull, the dirt, the empty spaces… "Look at me! Angie, it's me! Tom!"

I freeze. I let five loud heartbeats go by until I slowly open my eyes. Sure enough, it is Tom that is holding me in his grasp. I practically throw myself at him and start to break down. I feel his hand gently rub my back as he holds me tight with his other arm. "Angel, what's wrong? I came in to check on you and you were curled up in the corner asleep. I put you back in bed. Then, all I tried to do was wake you to get some breakfast and you swing at me? I'm lost as to what's happening here."

I just lay my head on his chest. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

"It's fine. I just want to know what's wrong. I want to help."

I swallow hard feeling the tightness in my throat from the crying. I don't want to go back to that nightmare. I don't want to see what happened again. I don't want to go back to the pain, and not just the fact I had been grabbed by something dead, but it had been Doyle, the only boy I truly ever loved and always will. It was his hand, arm, that sunken face and rotting flesh…

This is all too much. I suddenly push Tom to the side and run to the bathroom. I was going to be sick. I am getting sick. I close my eyes as I feel my stomach give way to the nausea. I cough and gag at the foul taste, which only makes me sick even more.

Tom comes in hesitantly, carefully pulls my hair back and holds it. I sit there for a while making sure the worst has passed, not daring to take a breath through my nose or open my eyes knowing it will start all over again. Tom helps me up and flushes the commode. He lets the lid down and sits me on top of it as he fixes me a glass of water from the sink and hands it to me.

I swish the water around in my mouth and spit it out into the sink a few times before brushing my teeth. He leads me back to my room and I curl up on the bed where silent tears roll down my cheeks and onto my pillow.

Tom stands before the bed looking down at me for a while until I finally can't bear it anymore and turn onto my other side. I hear him sigh quietly and take a seat in the cushy chair that is in the corner of my room. I can hear him punch numbers on his phone. I know he isn't calling 911 and for that I am happy.

I guess I have dozed off because the next thing I know is I'm waking up to being poked in the back with something not so pleasant. I quickly reach around and grab what feels like a stick from outside. I jerk it as hard as I can and suddenly feel a body on top of me. I groan under the sudden weight. "Uh, she's not a zombie," I hear Sean say and he quickly gets off of me as I try to grab him.

I roll onto my back and prop myself on my elbows. I groan as I see the entire crew in my room. Maybe it would have been better if Tom had called 911 and had me put in an asylum. I fall back flat on the mattress. "Did you really have to do this?" I whine. "I mean, just because we're a crew and stick together doesn't mean we have to share the same saliva, right?"

There is a moment of silence as I turn this over in my mind.

"Okay, bad example, we don't have to all go to the bathroom at the exact same time, do we?"

"Ew!" Lucy cries. "Tom said you were messed, Angie, but that's a little more than I expected."

I roll my eyes and sigh.

"What happened last night, Angie?" Tom questions softly.

I roll my head to look at him. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. "I had a dream…about Doyle," I whisper.

Everyone is silent. They fidget and look at each other unsure of what to do.

"It wasn't really a dream either," I continue though not knowing why. "I mean, it was at first, but then it changed into a nightmare. It was the worst thing I've ever experienced."

I can feel my throat start to close up again. Lucy and Tom come over and sit on either side of me on the bed. Greg, Sean, and Jimmy all stand there close, but I can tell that Greg and Sean aren't quite sure of what to do. Tom gently tugs me over so that I am leaning against him and Lucy leans on me with an arm around me. For the longest time, no one says anything.


	10. Chapter 10

Ch. 10

All day Saturday pretty much consists of the gang hanging out in my room watching television, eating snacks, and drinking soda. Lucy and I are on our stomachs on my bed as we watch some Spanish soap opera. After flipping through channels, it's about the only semi-entertaining thing that seems to be on. The boys sit on the floor with their backs against the bed staring up at the television like zombies. Max is curled up in his dog bed working on one of his rawhide bones. "I miss these kinds of days," Lucy sighs.

"Uh-huh," Greg responds numbly.

Silence weaves its way among us for a moment as we stare intently at my television screen watching as some Spanish woman cries to some young man.

"So, what's going on again?" Tom questions.

"Well," Sean answers. "You see, Rodriguez is having an affair with Lola and they're both married so when their spouses found out, everything blew up pretty much, but Sonia and Mario –the spouses- started getting hot and heavy when they were trying to figure out how they were going to remedy this situation. Now, Jaque, the lovechild of Lola from years ago, has come looking for his mother and it's all kinds of crazy."

"Oh, okay. Thanks." Tom says not taking his eyes from the TV.

"Here to help."

Lucy and I exchange a look, but quickly return our gazes to the screen. My parents are gone and are going to be out all day. It's very likely they probably won't be back home until late as they are at a neighbor's house watching football. I don't really mind having the gang all over and simply hanging out, but they're jumpy due to my breakdown from my nightmare and any move I make they're cautious about. I know they want me to be okay and are just trying to look out for me, but at some point it will get to be too much and I will start to feel smothered. It's happened before. For now however, I am perfectly stupefied.

The sound of the doorbell ringing causes everyone to freeze. After a short moment of them all looking at each other, they all look at me. "Expecting anyone, Angel?" Tom asks.

I shake my head. "No. I don't know who it might be." It can't be my parents. They'll stay out forever and it's only four o'clock, nowhere near time for them to come home. Why would they ring their own doorbell anyway? Hilda left forever ago and she can come and go as she pleases. I can't think of who it could be.

"Well, I'm going to find out," Sean says jumping up. He marches out of my room, all eyes on him until he disappears.

I shrug. I have no problem with it. I am comfortable where I am and apparently the others share the feeling because they don't bother to budge at all.

Downstairs, Sean turns the door handle of the front door and pulls it open. His breath hitches as his eyes rest upon Duane.

Duane looks at him, his face nonchalant. "Good afternoon. I'm looking for Angelina. Is she here?"

"I-I don't know. Wait- I mean, she lives here, but of course you already knew that. Uh- J-just one second."

With that, Sean slams the door shut and darts as fast as he can back up the stairs. Upon reaching my room, he trips and falls, slamming his shoulder into my dresser making us all jump. "Dude, what's your deal?" Tom demands.

Sean lays on my floor clutching his shoulder, groaning and writhing in pain.

"Are you okay?" Lucy interrogates.

"What's wrong, Sean?" Greg asks.

"It's Duane. He's at the door. He wants Angie."

All the gazes return back to me. "What?"

"What's he doing here?" Tom asks.

I detect a bit of defensiveness in his tone and I don't like it. There's no reason for it at all. I narrow my gaze at him. "I didn't ask him over if that's what you're insinuating. I haven't talked to him since the Ball. Guess I'll see what he wants."

I reluctantly pluck myself from my bed and make my way to my door. "Angie, don't," Sean pleads.

"Why not?"

He pauses. "He's just freaky."

I scoff rolling my eyes and continue to make my way downstairs. Tom follows me silently. The moment he heard Duane's name he started getting defensive and his sudden close proximity is starting to make me edgy. I guess in some way he's feeling like this is his turf and I know he doesn't like Duane, but apparently he especially doesn't like it when he's in his 'area'. It's so stupidly primitive and completely unnecessary. "I don't need you looking after me, Tom."

"I don't trust him, Angel."

"I don't know why. He hasn't slit my throat…yet."

"That's not funny."

"Lighten up," I say as I open the front door. I smile as I see Duane. "Hi."

The corners of his mouth turn upward ever so slightly. "Hi, how are you today?"

I look him over. So it's back to jeans and a t-shirt today. I glance at his shoes. No more Italian leather. Bummer. Oh well, he still looks good. "I'm doing okay. How are you?"

I see him glimpse at Tom. "Good, I'm good. Angie, I was hoping we could talk. Maybe take a walk, perhaps?"

I feel Tom tense behind me, but I ignore it. "That would be great. Just let me grab a jacket real quick."

He nods as I disappear back into the house and he is left standing there looking up at Tom who stares unwaveringly at him. I hurry to the downstairs closet and grab one of my light jackets. I slip it on as I approach the front door once again and step out onto the porch. "I'll be back soon, Tom. You can tell the others where I went."

He nods stiffly and I head toward the sidewalk with Duane by my side.

As we step off of my driveway and make a left, I notice there is a slight chill to the breeze that floats around us. I shiver a bit. "So," I start trying to break the silence. "What did you want to talk to me about? Is something wrong?"

He stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets and lifts his gaze to stare straight ahead. "Nothing's wrong necessarily."

I look at him. The way the sun shines from behind the thin blanket of clouds makes me notice how pale his skin is.

"I do want to apologize for last night at the Halloween Ball. I understand that I was noticeably aloof and I think the evening could have gone a bit better."

I shift my gaze down to my slightly worn black Converse as they carry me down the sidewalk.

"I just don't get the impression that your friends like me very much."

My eyes return back to his face, but he continues to stare straight ahead. "They just need some time." I look back down debating on whether or not to open myself up to someone new. I find it incredibly mind-blowing that I can't express myself fully to the people I have known for pretty much my whole life and yet, I feel compelled to do so with this person I don't know very much about. "It's just-"

This time, it's his eyes that shift to me.

"Something happened to one of our friends. His name was Doyle. He was killed in an accident. We were all very close to him. One of us in particular…"

His voice is soft as he speaks. "You."

I nod slightly.

"My condolences."

"I mean it was last year when we were in eleventh grade. It's not too fresh, but it still brings about some pain. It's kind of caused us to band a little closer to each other I guess."

"I understand."

We walk in silence for a while, the sound of our shoes scuffing the sidewalk and a few birds chirping the only noise around us. The streets are devoid of cars or any other people. I notice that we are nearing the old Ferdinand house, apparently the house Duane has moved into. "Are we stopping by your house?" I question as we start to advance on it.

He glances quickly from me to the house and I can see his body stiffen. "I hadn't planned on it and honestly I'd rather not. I haven't cleaned."

"Oh, okay, maybe some other time then."

He doesn't respond.

"Well, there isn't much more up ahead that's all that interesting except the cemetery maybe."

His eyes rest on me. "Do you want to go there?"

I look up at him and meet his dark eyes. "Do you?"

We stop walking and face each other there on the sidewalk. "It's just after everything that's happened to you, would you be okay going there?"

My gaze shifts to the side and glances back toward the Ferdinand place as I think this over. I watch as a squirrel chases another one up a tree. It couldn't hurt to go there. What's the worst that could happen? Lots of people visit passed loved ones in cemeteries and are perfectly okay. I can do this. I sigh. "I haven't been there since last year when it all happened, but I'm going to have to get up the courage at some point. I can't avoid it my whole life. Why not?"

"Only if you're sure-"

"I'm sure," I respond abruptly. I don't want to think about it anymore and chicken out. This will be good for me. Maybe by doing this I can start my healing process.

He nods and our feet return to their previous pace. My heart starts gradually pounding harder each step closer I take and I feel myself start to fidget. I have to stop thinking about this. "So, what was it like in New York before you moved here?"

He is quiet until I look over at him. He sighs. "Oh, you know, busy, fast-paced, nothing special."

"Where did you live?"

"New York City."

"Oh, cool. I bet that was really nice. What made you want to move here?"

"It's not something I really want to talk about."

"Oh, okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry or anything."

"It's all right. Maybe sometime I'll open up about it, but just not right now."

"I understand that."

We are both quiet as we gradually make our way closer to the cemetery gates. As soon as they are within sight, I find myself unable to tear my eyes away from them. My heartbeat drums in my ears as its pace picks up even more every step closer I take. I can do this, I tell myself trying to steady my breathing. Last night was just a bad dream. It didn't mean anything. It's not like it was something that will actually come true. How many times do dreams actually come to pass anyway? I would guess one in a trillion. Besides, don't people always say it's good to face your fear? I wonder in all actuality how true that is…

"Angelina?"

I shake myself out of my trance and shift my gaze to Duane. "What?"

"Are we going to go in?"

I realize I've been standing there staring up at the gates for the past few minutes. It is then that everything starts to fall around me. A multitude of emotions start to swarm inside me. Sorrow washes over me, slamming into me like a runaway semi. I miss him so much. Why did he have to go? He never got to fully live his life. I just want him back. An immense amount of frustration nags at me loudly. I should be able to do this. I should be stronger than this. Why do I have to be so weak? Anger screams at me to shake all of this crap off and march in there to face what I've been avoiding for so long. I just can't take it.

My throat tightens in a way I've never known trying to force out hot tears. My body starts to shake and there's nothing I can do to stop it. My chest works hard trying to keep up with my near hyperventilation. As a quiet groan of pain emanates from my burning throat, I raise my trembling hands to my face trying to hide myself as I crumple to my knees. "I can't do this," comes out in a strangled whisper.

Duane kneels beside me and places a gentle hand on my back, slowly, lightly rubbing it. I find the gesture surprisingly calming. For a while, the only sound is the quiet gasps of my sobs, but those soon fade away with the help of Duane. I take a few deep breaths trying to calm myself further. Eventually, I position myself so that I sit with my back against the rusted fence of the cemetery and pull my knees up to my chest wrapping my arms around them. Duane mimics me. "I'm sorry," I whisper wiping away a tear I couldn't fight back.

He simply watches me.

"This probably wouldn't be so hard if I hadn't have had that stupid nightmare or if I had visited here sooner or more often doing that whole 'grieving' thing, you know?"

For a while, the only sound is the breeze causing a few dead leaves to skitter along the pavement. I look over at Duane meeting his eyes. They're so dark they almost appear black. Maybe they are black. That's not possible though, is it? They just must be a really dark brown. The fine side swept bangs of his black hair gently brush against his brow from the breeze. "I think that you can do this," he speaks softly.

The stab of failure that shoots through me is almost unbearable. How can this near stranger possibly believe in me? Most people just say 'you can do it' to try and make you feel better and it's not really sincere. The way he says it to me though, I really do think he believes I can, but that's simply not the case.

I quickly avert my gaze for the tears are threatening to make their presence again. I shake my head. "I can't. I didn't go through the healing process like I should've and now it's too late and everything's so screwed up. I thought by avoiding it and blocking it out it would-"

I pause, trying to fight against the tightness starting to rise again in my throat. It takes me a minute, but it's only when I believe I have regained control that I continue to speak. "But no. It's only made it worse and I'll never be able to do it. And it hurts so much because I should be strong enough for him. I mean, if he really is looking down from the sky like people say when loved ones die, wouldn't he want me to visit him from time to time? I can't do it and I just feel like I'm disappointing him or hurting him in some way. Our love should be stronger than that, right? Stronger than my stupid fear? I don't know. I just can't. I can't."

I feel his cool hands firmly upon my cheeks gently turning my face towards his. "Angelina, look at me, please."

Sniffling, I reluctantly force my eyes to meet his once again. My face feels hot and puffy. I'm sure I look like a real mess. I feel a few tears slide down my cheeks and I can tell they make their way onto his hands. "You can do this, Angelina. He knows you can. I'm sure he understands and I bet he would want you to take your time to try and get up enough strength to go in there. So, you may not be able to do it today, tomorrow, or for quite some time, but I do believe you can do it _in_ time."

I sit there staring at him in utter bewilderment. What just happened? Have I really just unloaded one of the many piles of crap that I've buried deep inside me? Have I really just allowed that to happen? With a near stranger nonetheless! He gets it though. I really believe he understands. The way he looks at me when I talk, how intently he seems to listen, and just how he talks to me... Ever since this stuff happened, I haven't felt that I could do this with anyone before, not the crew, Hilda, or my parents even. Now here he is… It is such a relief I almost feel like I am floating. It is simply the most beautiful thing I've ever experienced. It is almost too much. If there is anything that could ever completely break me down, it is this moment. I find myself clinging tightly to Duane and burying my face into his chest and letting sobs wrack my body, gasping for breath, holding nothing back.


	11. Chapter 11

Ch. 11

On our way back home, both Duane and I are silent except for my occasional sniffles and the scuffs of our shoes on the pavement. I really want to hurry up and get home so that I can get myself cleaned up. While crying may have made me feel better, I highly doubt it's made me look better. I'm sure I look just awful what with my red, runny nose and puffy, equally red eyes… The situation is anything but uncomfortable, though. Somehow, just the fact that he is here with me makes me feel okay.

As we start to near my house, I glance across the street and notice a silver car I've never seen before. It appears to be an Aston Martin. I'm not sure why it would be there. There aren't any houses across from mine. It's just a bunch of trees. What's more is I see the man in the driver's seat just start to get out, but he pauses looking at Duane and me through the windshield, then decides to close his door, start his car and drive away. It's incredibly weird. I couldn't have scared him off, could I? Could I really look that bad? I really hope not. I'd rather it just be a weird circumstance. Duane doesn't seem to have noticed anything. Maybe it's just me.

Of course I should've figured that as Duane and I start up my driveway, there is Tom standing on the porch waiting like a father worrying about his daughter's first date. He's probably been waiting ever since we left. I can tell by a change in his serious demeanor that he's taken notice of my face. Now I regret having ever cried.

He meets us halfway up the drive and puts his hands on my shoulders, trying to get a good look at my face. "Angel, are you okay?" He turns on Duane then, stepping closer to him. "What'd you do?"

I quickly step in between them. The last thing we need is a fight to break out and obviously Tom's looking for any excuse to start one, not even caring about an explanation. "Whoa, Tom, relax! He didn't do anything."

Duane merely looks at Tom with his intense eyes, face expressionless as usual.

Tom steps back but doesn't take his glare off of Duane. He puts an arm around me and tugs me close to him. "I think it'd be best for you to go now," he says.

Hearing this, I shrug out of his grasp and look at him. What right does he think he has to tell my guests what to do? I'm not about to let him think he can get away with this. "No, wait just a minute."

Tom looks at me and I can tell he didn't expect this turn of events. He's quickly losing what control he thinks he has over the situation and has no one to back him up. This is not something he's used to.

"Tom, you can go," I say quietly.

Several beats go by and he simply stares at me not believing what he has just heard. "What?"

"You heard me. All of you, you can go…except Duane. He can stay."

Tom gawks at me. "Are you out of your mind? Angie, we were here in your time of need. _I_ was here. Now you're throwing your best friends out for some freak stranger?"

"I didn't ask for you to-" I stop myself. Blowing up is not the solution. I am clenching my jaw, balling my hands into fists, doing my best not to explode because if I do I'm not sure just how far it will go. That and it's just really not necessary. I can feel myself shaking with frustration, but then Duane puts a gentle hand upon my shoulder and it all seems to melt away. I feel like I can breathe and think straight for a moment, like I'm no longer seeing red.

"Tom," he speaks softly.

In an instant, Tom is right back in his face with a finger. "No, don't talk to me. In case you haven't gotten the hint: I don't like you very much. You don't know me and you're not my friend, so you have no right to tell me anything. Just keep your mouth shut."

Duane seems unfazed. He continues, "If you really care about her, you'll go."

There's absolute silence, but I can tell Tom is seething on the inside. He looks at me, but I can't meet his gaze. I don't know why. I shouldn't feel bad for this…should I? I'm not replacing anyone here, but I just need some space. Somehow Duane just lets me feel free in a way I've never known before. He makes me feel like maybe I can start healing and fixing my problems, like maybe there's hope. And the crew seems to be part of the problem, so it seems like it would only be right to distance myself while I try and figure things out, right?

Tom sharply turns from us, storming back into the house and it isn't long before he and the entire crew is marching back out. They look at me with concerned, questioning glances as they silently file into their cars. Tom slams the front door shut causing me to jump. He struts over to me and leans in close to my face. "Don't expect us around anytime soon, traitor," he growls before getting in his car and speeding off with the others.

After a long beat, I finally make myself peek up at Duane and find him looking back at me. I sigh, feeling defeated and embarrassed, and look away. I'm not sure of what to say except, "I'm sorry."

He remains quiet.

"I just don't know how much more I can take. You shouldn't have to go through this stupid drama… It's just so incredibly-"

"Hey."

I look up at him once more. He has my complete attention.

"This is a good thing. Now you can focus on yourself and working out your problems. Once you've done that, then you can branch out to your friends, help them, and hopefully everything will be better for all of you. I'm fine, I promise. All I'm concerned about is you."

It takes me a long moment of just looking at him and letting it all sink in before I nod silently.

"I suppose I should go home."

"No! Oh, please stay. I'd love if you'd stay for dinner, otherwise I'd be having it by myself since my friends left and my parents are out. I'd really enjoy your company."

His eyes rest on me for a second before looking across the street. After a moment he turns to me again and says, "Okay."

"Just let me put Max in the backyard. He still hasn't gotten used to you. I don't know why. It's really not like him."

Duane nods to me and I head inside to a barking, snarling Max. I rein him in and set him free in the fenced-in backyard. I make my way back to the front door to see Duane on the porch staring off into the trees across the street with his hands in his pockets. I can't help but take a moment to watch him and take him in. It just confounds me how someone could be so beautiful. It's like he's an angel or something. He has to be. "Hey," I say finally.

He turns to me.

"It's safe now. You can come in."

He gracefully steps inside the house and I shut the door, locking it. "Thank you," he says gazing down at me with those eyes of his. A hint of a smile plays upon his lips.

I look back up at him, unable to help smiling myself. "Sure."

I can feel my heart start to pound and excitement start to swell up inside me. It's sinking in. I can't believe I have such an amazing guy in my house! And one that seems to actually care at that! My inner 13 year old girly-girl is squealing on the inside. My excitement is short lived however as I remember that I have cry-face. I can't imagine how I must look. My eyes quickly fall to the floor as insecurity makes its presence. "You know, I really should go get cleaned up. While all that crying may be good for me emotionally, it does nothing for me physically, so if you'd just excuse me-"

"You look fine."

My eyes rest back on him. His lips are still posed in that light smile and his eyes hold no judgment. For a moment I almost believe him. I really feel like he means his words. However, the power of feminine insecurity cannot be crushed. "I'll just be a moment," I say before scampering upstairs to my room.

Upon reaching it, I immediately glance in my mirror. I guess Duane was right. The damage isn't too bad. There is hardly any sign I'd cried, no redness at all. I did look okay…but just okay. Sighing, I collapse backwards onto my bed and stare at the ceiling feeling incredibly average. How am I going to do this? There's a very fine guy in my house and I'm alone with him. This can go really good or really bad. Conversation seems like it could be a task. He's not exactly Chatty Cathy. I'm not even sure if I have anything to do that he might find even remotely entertaining and he's got quite the unique personality. It seems like forever since I've done this. Maybe if we burned something… No. Doyle help me. What did we do for fun, just the two of us? I groan and cover my face with my hands. It's only a second later when I hear a knock on my doorframe that I jolt up to see Duane. "Duane…"

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just got lost in my thoughts, sorry."

"May I come in?"

I pause, looking him up and down. I've never been asked that. This is certainly different, very polite. "Yeah, sure. Mi casa…" I drift off looking at the floor.

Duane quietly steps into my room gradually taking it all in: my tall, white four-poster bed with light purple sheets and lots of pillows, my unicorn posters, my dresser, and my bookshelf with all of my books and knickknacks. Finally, he moves towards the pictures I have on my mirror and looks at them for a long while before asking, "Is this Doyle?"

I nod as he points him out.

He turns around to face me. "He was a handsome guy. He loved you very much."

"How can you tell? I mean, what makes you say that?"

"It's obvious. The connection you had with him and have with your friends today… I must admit I'm a tad jealous." He makes his way to lean against the bedpost at the foot of my bed. "Then again, I'm not, because I feel that the two of us are building something special."

I look up at him and he returns the gesture. This is totally a kissing moment. I shift my gaze to his very kissable looking lips, then close my eyes a moment before looking back into his. They seem so sincere, caring, non-pressuring… I can't kiss him now. I don't want to screw this thing up. He's the one thing that's given me peace. That and well, what about Lucy? It's just not right. "Yeah, me too. Duane, you really seem like a wonderful person and I don't think I will ever be able to thank you enough for what you've done. Seriously, you don't know how much it means to me. Thank you."

He nods. "Thank you as well. Your kindness is quite refreshing and I realize it has caused some tension among you and your friends, but I do believe that if we continue, things will be better in the end."

I smile and nod. I really hope he's right. It would be so great; things would be so much better if everyone was happy. This is totally a hugging moment and it makes me happy that as I lean in to embrace him, he reciprocates the action. The feeling I get when I feel his arms around me is something new, different. His body seems cool in temperature and there seems to be some sort of energy or electricity. My body seems to hum at his touch. I simply dismiss it as pure excitement. That's all it could be. I am very happy, possibly the happiest I've been in a while. I hold onto him firmly and it just feels so right with my head on his chest. The feeling of his hand moving up and down my back is extremely soothing and almost makes me want to go to sleep. When it is time to let go, I am left with a dull, empty feeling.

I glance at my clock. It's a little past 6:30, late enough for dinner. "So, um, what would you like for dinner? I'm not sure what we have, but you know, we could do the classic takeout of Chinese or pizza. I don't care."

"How about I raid your pantry and surprise you?"

Is he seriously offering to cook for me? While it's always sort of been a dream of mine for a guy to do that, I can't let him do this. "No, Duane, I can't let you do that. You're the guest and all-"

"I insist, my lady," he says gently taking my hand, sweeping me off the bed and out through the door. "You deserve it after all that you've been through."

I giggle as he sweeps me down the stairs. Moving past the living room and into the kitchen, he picks me up by the waist with unusual ease and sits me on top of the counter. I am absolutely beaming. This guy has to be the most charming person I've ever met. He has to have a flaw though. Everyone does. I'm curious as to what it is, but I don't dwell on it for long. "Should I be scared? I mean, you do know how to cook, right?"

"Oh, yes. Fear not. You will be in heaven when I'm through with you," he says casting me a sly smile.

I watch him as he rummages through the fridge, the freezer, and our spice rack, pulling out a multitude of things that I honestly didn't know we had and didn't think would make a good combination of anything. He works quickly, moving around me with ease and fluidity, and it isn't long before the kitchen begins to fill up with delicious scents that make my stomach start to growl.

After a short while, Duane announces," Time to eat."

"Finally. All this watching you play around with food has me starved."

"Well, good," he says as he places food onto a plate. "This is my New York inspired meal. For the main entrée we will be dining on some very delicious Buffalo Chicken Rolls. It's chicken breast marinated in hot sauce and filled with shredded Provolone cheese served with Ranch or Bleu Cheese dressing and a side of New York Rye Bread."

I watch as he cuts off a piece of chicken and stabs it with a fork, then hesitates over the choice of dressings. "Ranch, please," I say and watch as he dips the chicken in it, then brings it to my lips. I take a bite and nearly melt as the flavor envelopes me. It's the most delicious thing I've ever tasted.

"Do you like it?" he questions trying to read my face for a response.

I open my eyes and look at him. "I love it! Where- How did you learn to cook like this? It's absolutely amazing!"

He grins. "Why thank you. It's just something I like to do. I suppose you could call it a hobby. Try this," he says and guides a piece of the bread into my mouth.

I let the flavor and texture float over my tongue and nod in approval. "You're really good at it. This is so tasty!"

He smiles as he pops a piece of chicken with Bleu Cheese into his mouth and I grab another piece myself. It seems even better than the first bite.

I look at Duane leaning against the counter next to me and find him looking back at me. We eat in silence for a few minutes, but it's not really awkward or anything. It's actually quite nice. I'm really glad he's here. It's so much better than dealing with one of Tom's tantrums. Change is looking pretty good so far. "So, do you have dessert planned?" I ask while taking another bite of bread. The food is pretty much gone already. I really must've been hungry, and then again he only cooked a small portion of it, but it was the perfect size: enough to be eaten and enough to sate my hunger.

"It may seem cliché, but since this is New York themed, I have prepared what is known as Mary's Cheesecake."

"I can't wait. I'm a big fan of cheesecake."

"You won't have to," he says pulling a small cake from the fridge covered in strawberries. "Granted I did this in sort of a rush, I'm not sure how good it will be."

I watch him as he cuts out a slice of the cake and puts it on a plate. Then, he severs off a small piece with a fork and guides it into my mouth. I nearly die. It is so rich, but so fantastic. It's so smooth and creamy… It only makes it better that such a beautiful guy is feeding it to me. It's like a dream come true. "This is what you create in a rush?"

"It's good?"

"Way beyond 'good'. It's out of this world! You should be a chef or maybe start your own restaurant. Seriously, Duane, this is amazing."

He laughs lightly. "Thank you. It means a lot to me that you like it," he says as he begins to clean up the kitchen.

"You're not going to have any?" I ask gesturing to the cake.

"I'm not really a desserts person," he responds carrying on about his business.

I give an understanding nod and take another bite of cheesecake. I am going to go into a coma if I continued this. I start to put my fork down, but decide to have just one more bite. It is just too good.

With that, I hop down from the counter and open a cabinet drawer to dig out some plastic wrap. I pull some over the rest of the cheesecake and put it into the refrigerator. Duane cleans up what is left of the slice I'd eaten.

I lean against the cabinet and he turns to me. "So, what would you like to do?" I question. "I think there might be a good Spanish soap opera on TV."

It is then that I hear the familiar sound of the front door being unlocked and opened. "Angelina? You home?" my mother calls.

Wonderful, the parents are home. "Yes, in the kitchen," I call and turn back to Duane. "My parents. I didn't think they'd be back this early," I say glancing at the clock. It's only 8:45.

We watch as my parents file into the kitchen. "Oh, honey, I didn't realize you had friends over," Mom states.

"Yep. Mom, Dad, this is Duane. He's a friend from school. Duane, these are my parents."

"Hi," he says shaking my mother's hand and then my father's.

"It's nice to meet you," Mom says.

"Yes, very," Dad adds. "I don't think we've seen you around."

"Yes, I recently moved here," Duane answers. "A little over a week ago from New York."

"Oh really? Well, this must be sort of a shock to you then. It's not quite as fast-paced here, obviously. Where are you living?"

"My parents bought the house at the end of the block. The Ferdinand House I believe it's called."

Dad nods and I see a skeptical look flash across my mother's eyes, but it's long gone when she asks," So, have you two eaten?" The kids around here aren't the only one who have heard the stories about that house. The parents will say that they would never believe such foolish stories, but I know they have their questions.

"Yeah," I answer. "Duane actually cooked. It was amazing. You should've been here to try some. There's still some cheesecake left in the fridge, but I'm warning you: it's very rich."

"That was very nice of you, Duane. I appreciate you taking care of our girl," my mother says smiling brightly and giving me a squeeze.

I groan jokingly and shrug out of her grasp. "Stop it, Mom." I can tell she's beginning to get her suspicions about if this could turn out to be a flaming romance for me. I know moms can have girly moments, because they were once girls, too, but I know that even though she'd never tell me, she's been concerned about me dealing with Doyle's death. Me bringing a boy home signals to her that things are looking brighter for me, which is good, because I don't like for her to worry.

"I guess I should be going. It was nice to meet you," he says acknowledging my parents.

They nod to him and I walk with him to the front door. "Well," I sigh feeling a little disappointed that such a good day is ending. "Thanks for everything."

"Sure," he responds. "Listen, I think you should take my number, just in case you need anything."

Is he being completely serious right now? He's really giving me his number? While I kind of wished it would happen, I never really expected it to happen quite this soon. "Yeah, okay. That sounds good."

I take out my cell phone from my pocket and key in the numbers as he reels them off to me, all the while beaming on the inside. "Done and done," I say flipping my phone closed.

"Good. Have a good night, Angie."

I open the door and watch him walk out. "Bye," I say and watch him as he strolls down the driveway and onto the sidewalk.

I smile and close the door. I stand there not believing how this day has turned out. I would rank it up there with one of my best days ever. Sure it started off okay, then it got worse, but then it got immensely better. I do a mini cheer and grab my cell phone to call Lucy and tell her about everything, but I stop just as I begin to push the 'send' button. I remember how she feels about Duane. I close my phone. I can't hurt her that way. It's better if she doesn't know.

Still, maybe I should call her and try and explain what happened earlier with Tom. I dial her number again and press the 'send' button this time. "Hello?"

"Lucy!"

"Angie? Oh, my gosh, woman, it feels like forever since we've talked! What happened today? Tom was fuming. I've never, hardly ever seen him like that."

"I know. What'd he tell you?" I trust Tom with my life, but when he gets angry, he tells the how the situation happened his way, not really the rational way.

"Just stuff like you'd rather be with Duane than us and it was time to get out."

"That's not true, you know it isn't. You know how Tom gets when he doesn't get his way. I love you guys. No one could ever replace any of you. Tom just blew up and wouldn't let me explain."

"Chickadee, I know. I mean, I figured there was something more going on, but we figured we'd let you have your space. So, you have to tell me: did anything happen after we left, with Duane?"

I hesitate before deciding it would be better to stay vague. "No, nothing special. We just hung out and then he left."

I honestly can't tell if she sounds relieved or disappointed when she says, "Oh…"

I am quiet.

She is the same.

"So, yeah, I just wanted to call and make sure things are okay with us."

"Everything is fine, Angie. Pinky promise swear."

There's another pause as I debate on whether to say what I think I should or not.

"Angie? If there's something else, say it already. I'm dying in this silence."

"It's just… I kind of need some space for a while. There's some things I need to sort out and well, Duane is kind of helping me with it all and I just want you to know that I'm not abandoning you guys."

"Okay."

She doesn't sound her usual perky self. Maybe it's just me being so afraid of her reaction that I'm making it come to life in my mind. "It'll be for the better, I promise," I say not really knowing if I'm trying to reassure her or myself.

"Okay. Do what you have to. I believe you."

"Thanks. Give my love to everyone and I love you."

"You too."

"Ciao."

"Goodbye, Angie."

I hang up, somehow feeling worse than what I thought I might. Maybe it would've been best to have not called at all. I know Lucy's probably worried sick thinking that since we are going to be spending time together, something is going to happen between Duane and me. There's no way for her not to. Suspicion will drive her nuts. She does have a right to be suspicious though. I mean Duane does seem like the perfect guy and I will admit that there are some butterflies starting to grow whether I like it or not. Everything about this seems like it could spell trouble, but I'm just going to keep going and see where it takes me.

Sighing, I go and let Max back inside. He licks and jumps on me trying to tell me that he's missed me. "I'm sorry, boy, but I know how you feel about Duane. Today's been a draining day and I'm tired so what do you say we go to bed?"

He barks and I head upstairs with him right on my heels.


End file.
